After Life
by Corinder
Summary: Wendy, after having somehow managed to NOT screw up Middle Earth in the LOTR world, surviving being a mummy, and surviving love... is back. Finding herself in Bree with someone who she's been avoiding, stuck without a guidebook or any clue as to what she's supposed to do, Wendy is once again here to mess things up... and somehow survive. This ain't going to be a picnic.
1. It began with sunshine?

It wasn't raining in Bree.

That was my reaction. Probably not a logical 'first thought' either as there were all kinds of better 'reactions' such as: 'Holy hell, I'm in Middle Earth...'

Or perhaps: 'What the hell am I doing in a book and ankle deep in poo?'

Even 'I seriously shouldn't have eaten that microwaved cheese pastry before bed...' would have worked better.

Nope. I stood there, one boot quite firmly embedded in a deep pile of pony poo, and all I could think about was that it was supposed to be dark, kind of opressive, and raining.

It wasn't.

It was actually quite a lovely day, the sun rising, the smell of bread baking somewhere, the musk of horse and pony alike from a nearby stable (as well as the not-sopleasant aroma of poo right under my foot), with warm sunshine and a light cool breeze. If I just ignored the smell of human waste being dumped into the river from the night's chamberpots and focused on the scent of flowers from the flower boxes in the nearby windows then I could probably have appreciated Bree as being a cute little town.

I took a step forward out of the poo and out of the way of a cart coming down the road, staring down, and shaking my boot slightly. Chunks of straw embedded 'mud' fell off and I closed my eyes a moment as my mind tried its hardest to deal with this situation logically. All right then. All right. No. I didn't need to panic. It was only Bree. Sanity could ...resume. I wasn't loosing my marbles. This had happened before.

I ... should be a pro at this.

This was not the first time I'd been dumped in Middle Earth.

Five and a half years earlier I'd been dumped into the river near Rivendel for one big ass adventure that had not been all rosy romance and fun. Not really. It had been beyond frightening, stressful, and I still had nightmares about those wars. Whoever thought that skipping through Middle Earth during that war back then was FUN was bonkers.

It was my child that made it all worth it. My child and ... and _him_. It was because of my child, born in Middle Earth, that I had to keep coming back to Minas Tirith- because that boy needed his cultural heritage as much as he needed me. Every three months I'd find myself back in Middle Earth with Cele, so that he could know his heritage, and I had gotten used to finding myself here.

Only...

It wasn't time to go back and I didn't have Cele with me. I had a bow, which was nice, and a pack... but no clue what the hell I was doing in Bree.

"Oi!"

I jumped, startled, as a hand more or less slapped me hard over the back of the head, and then arms grabbed me for a bone-crushing embrace. I knew those arms. I knew those bloody arms. Hadn't felt them for years and I knew them.

"Boro-" I couldn't finish the word, I felt so damn suffocated, and I heard his laughter.

He stood back, grinning, a completely different man from the one I'd first met in Rivendel years earlier. Boromir was older as well, his hair cut short, a long scar coming down the side of his forehead where they'd operated. Another long story. I hadn't let Boromir die and he was supposed to die... there was even a cancer in his head getting ready to do the work... and so in the end he'd come back to Earth with me. It was either that or ruin Faramir's life. Boromir had been 'adopted' by my ex-boyfriend, more or less, two rejected and heartbroken men that I had dumped and the last I'd heard, had started treatment for his cancer.

It had been years.

"Where are we? Another of your Earth towns? I like it!" He decided, glancing around, behaving as if we hadn't just spent the last five years on Earth acting as if one another hadn't existed.

"This isn't Earth." I informed him and bent down to pick up a stick. Guilt at 'abandoning' Boromir in MY world crept in as he stretched, major guilt, even though at the time I'd decided it was the best thing. So had he. I'd gotten busy with a baby and he...

I didn't know.

"Ah. I see no mobi fone. Yes." Boromir raised an eyebrow as he openly scruitined a guard passing by, crossing his arms, and reached into a pocket. He drew out a phone- one of those old phones they usually gave the Elderly who had no clue how to use phones- and raised it up to stare at it. "It has no bar."

"We're in Bree. Near Hobbiton." I wasn't sure if this was right or not and continued to try and scrape the pony poo off my boot.

What the hell was he doing here anyway? He shouldn't be here.

"What are you doing here?"

"I don't know. I was working and then I was not." Boromir must have noticed what I was trying to do because I heard him laugh and then suddenly he appeared, kneeling, and yanking my foot towards him. "Do you not look where you stand, woman?"

"I appeared in it. Hey-" I tried to push him off as he yanked off a flannelette shirt and clean the boot. "-No laundry here."

"No matter. These shirts do not take much to wash."

It wasn't just that.

It was awkward, and kind of strange, because where we were- standing in Bree as if we belonged. We didn't LOOK like we belonged- Boromir looking like some kind of lumberjack with short hair and jeans and myself in a short dress, pants and boots.

We were getting stared at as well. A sleepy looking man had appeared at the front of one of the inns and was openly staring at us both. There was something very odd about this whole situation.

Well- besides the fact that I had Boromir trying to clean my boot with an Earth-made lumber man shirt, that we were standing in Bree right now, and I was supposed to be at home packing a lunch for Cele's first day at primary school and getting the excited kid into the car. Where had he been last I'd seen him? Halfway up a tree. In his new school uniform.

I shook my head, trying to force myself back to the moment, just as Boromir let my foot drop and he stood up. He seemed a little unsure of what to say as well- he just stared at me a long time.

"Have you been well?"

"Yeah." I smiled, or tried to, but it felt forced. How much did you tell someone when you'd rejected their advances? It would be boasting to talk about my son, cruel to talk about WHO I'd rejected Boromir for, cruel to talk about how happy I was. "But I'm confused about this."

"As am I. Why are we here?"

Big bloody question.

I couldn't see an obvious answer. Boromir wasn't even supposed to come back to Middle Earth- that had been Galadriel's decision and he'd agreed. He had to 'die' in Middle Earth and he'd, from what I'd been told, had almost died fighting that cancer.

The worst part was that I hadn't wanted to find out if he had died. I hadn't known. It felt too strange to ask.

"Are you... well?"

The word 'well' had a lot of meaning. Boromir glanced back at me and, just for a moment, there was a flash of something there. Hurt, maybe, that I hadn't contacted him since I'd come home? It was gone as fast as it had come. He nodded, eyes going up to where the stables were, as if the horses were far more interesting than me. "I have been very well. The cancer is in complete re-mishan."

"Remission?"

"Yes. They believe it was found in time. They have seen no trace of it since." Boromir shrugged, wrapping up his shirt carefully, and added, "It may come back but it seems unlikely."

"That's good!" It was good. I should have asked YEARS ago.

"I work now."

"Doing what?"

It was like one of those awkward conversations you had with an ex who you KNEW you'd burnt badly. I felt like I should be asking these questions... and I DID really want to know he was okay... and yet somehow it felt forced.

Luckily the conversation was interrupted. Boromir had no more than opened his mouth to respond than we'd seen a very familiar face.

Very familiar.

"Isn't that..."

"Gandalf!" Boromir exclaimed. He stepped forward, as did I, and grasped for the Wizard's shoulder.

A staff whacked him, very sudden, knocking Boromir flat onto his back in the mud. Gandalf looked … different. My brain and my eyes caught onto this at different times- I saw the Grey cloak, the old grey hat, and yet my brain didn't get it straight off.

"Wait-" I stared, hands raising, trying to verbally warn Boromir what my brain had just started to figure out. "That isn't..."

"Who are you?"

There was obvious mistrust, even anger, as Gandalf shoved the staff down on Boromir's chest.

A fresh wave of confusion crossed my mind, mirrored on Boromir's face, as Gandalf's sharp eyes went from myself to Boromir and back again.

"It is us, Gandalf- Wenduin and Boromir." Boromir reached up to touch his hair. "Tis true, I look different, but-"

"Boromir?" No flash of understanding. None.

"Gandalf the … Grey?" I tried, trying to stay non-threatening, though truth be told I had no idea how to deal with this situation, and added, "Is that who you are?"

"Who else would I be?" Gandalf snapped.

"Gandalf the Grey?" Boromir finally seemed to get it. He edged backwards, slowly, and stood up. Meeting my eyes, he seemed puzzled, and then quietly asked, "What year is this?"

"This is year 2941 of the Third Age." Gandalf stood back, his staff beside him, regarding us both with obvious suspicion. "You two should not approach strange Wizards."

I wished.

We watched him go, a little lost all of a sudden, and it was only when he was well out of earshot that Boromir said quietly, "Two years before my mother was even born."

"So-"

"Tis not our time, Wenduin."

This was the second time he'd used my 'full' name... and it hurt. It wasn't the time to be hurt. I had hurt him badly and didn't deserve to be a friend. However... he was right. The times I had to come back to Middle Earth so my baby could know his race were decades in the future.

"I don't understand." I said softly. "Was it a mistake?" I wasn't even sure HOW it worked... how I was sent backwards and forwards... but there had never been a mistake before. I'd always appear at the right time.

Boromir yanked me into the pavement, sudden, as another cart rattled past. He let go, flustered, and crossed his arms. "I am not impressed."

"I'm just confused." I muttered. Bree. Okay.

"Let us get a drink and speak to the bartender." Boromir nodded towards one of the inns. Prancing Pony. Of course it was. Typical. "They will know what is happening, and I may wash my clothing, and then we move to Minas Tirith. From there... I will find the answers."

Typical. Even now, even before his parents had married, the man wanted to go home and find answers there. I didn't argue as we headed for the Prancing Pony... I just had a feeling this wasn't a mistake and we probably wouldn't head to his home city.

The last conversation I'd had with Legolas at home crossed my mind, suddenly, and as Boromir ordered for 'two rooms' and drinks. I felt my heart sink. Fingers tightened around bow and pack.

We weren't here for fun.

Something was going to happen and … I wasn't sure I was going to like it very much.

* * *

_**A/N**_  
_Welcome, new and old readers, to the Hobbit edition of 'Another Life'. You do NOT need to read Another Life to read this story... although you're welcome to read it. (And I SWEAR I'll edit the mess that is chapter 2. Omg. What a huge mess that one turned out to be.)_

_This will follow the movies primarily BUT it will also include/alter some scenes from the book as well. _

_I fully plan on having this story caught up by movie three... so let's get through the next year (and the next two weeks for us poor Aussies who don't get to see Desolation Of Smaug till Boxing Day) and have some fun messing with plots, lives and all kinds of things._


	2. Elephants in the Inn

"Sit."

I sat.

Boromir moved off towards a youngish man. The two of them stood there, arguing backwards and forwards over the counter, Boromir a good two heads over the younger Innkeeper who couldn't have been more than nineteen. What they were arguing about, I wasn't sure, but it seemed to grow heated and Boromir's face grew darker with anger.

Whatever it was they argued about- Boromir lost.

He reached for his pockets and withdrew a wallet. Oh. Yeah. Problem number two. Finances.

Boromir seemed to see this new problem as quickly as I did: He hesitated, red faced as he understood that he HAD no money that Middle Earth would want, and then without a word to the Innkeeper marched back to where he'd ordered me to sit.

"You can't stay here for free either!" The Innkeeper called across the room. It drew a little negative attention to us

"We need coin."

"Yeah, got it." The pack I had arrived in Bree with- barely noticed before- rose to the forefront of my mind now. I tugged the velcro open as I hoisted the bag between my knees and peered inside. Just moments before I'd come here I'd been given them both. A bow and a pack. The bow had some pretty obvious uses- and I was trained in most of those uses- but the pack? Tugging the pack open I wondered if the person who'd given it to me had known about this.

From the look of the contents it was pretty clear he had know. _Legolas_ had known I was doing this. Clothing, real hiking based clothing, rations, rope, a knife, a laminated map, even a wind up torch...

"Why on earth are we here?" I muttered and forgot about the money for a moment as I pushed the contents side to side. No note was obvious. There was a painting though- also laminated. Cele. My son's childish handywork. I lifted the small childish drawing of our family- Legolas, myself and Cele in beautiful stick figures complete with belly buttons- and stared at it, swallowing, a kind of pain growing in my chest as I suddenly felt the distance between me and my family.

It was kind of absurd in a way. I'd somehow managed to 'bond' to that near-perfect Elf years ago, apparently in a 'mateship' which he described as us being two halves of the same spirit... or something like that... and at the time it'd taken me some time to _accept_ that kind of bond. It was kind of claustrophobic and frustrating to think that, after all the times I'd tried to date and work hard to find true love, I drop into an Elf's lap and it became 'Oh. By the way- we're fated' or some crap.

I still had issues believing it. Not because I didn't love him- I _really_ did- but because sometimes Leoglas seemed like an alien to me. His behaviour, his attitude, the times he'd go off and vanish into the wild, even the way he spoke about or looked at the world was so different from my own that there were times I would look at my 'other half' and feel as much connection to him as I did a tree.

Then he'd look at me, get that smile in his eyes, and we'd snap back together emotionally, physically and sexually without a word spoken. Sometimes I could even swear I sensed his emotions, his thoughts, particularly when we were physical... I _knew_ he could do that with me...and it was the most intimate and frightening connection I'd ever had in my life. Legolas knew everything about me- my mood, my thoughts, what I needed- before I could tell him about it. He always had. He also knew that I preferred to tell him... and would wait. His habit of 'waiting' was a whole other story.

My son, Legolas' son, was the same way. The two of them were closer in 'spirit' than myself and my son was- and often I'd feel that disconnection from my baby as well... like he was tapping into some other world while he stood right beside me, his mind and spirit lost in some Elf place that I couldn't reach.

Like Legolas, 'Cele' as we called him would always come back to me though, and I'd just decided to accept that he was always going to be half-something else. And like Legolas Cele always seemed to know what I needed before I asked.

I stared at the images of us, drawn in crayon, with the same skill as any other five year old boy and felt lost suddenly without my 'boys'.

A hand startled me, going right across the image, and Boromir snatched up a small bag. The sound of coins were heard as he lifted it and turned, without a word, heading for the bar.

I'd chosen Legolas over him. He must have seen the 'drawing' of us, the happy family, and with some guilt I shoved the crayon drawing deep back into the bag and tugged out the map instead. Should I say sorry? I didn't when he returned- I couldn't bring myself to do it- and Boromir acted as if he hadn't seen it at all.

"You have a map." He observed as he clunked down a drink across the table at me. "I have drink."

"Beer?"

"Ale, woman. _Ale._ Unless you are unable..."

I got what he was hinting at. Nope. _Not_ pregnant. It was clearly morning but we weren't the only ones drinking in the Prancing Pony... so why the hell not? I took the drink and drank a sip, wrinkling my nose a little, and decided today was not the kind of day to be fussy about my tastes in booze. "Yes- I have a map."

Boromir took it and gazed at it, expressionless, as he drank a long drink of his ale. "Why?"

"I was given a pack." I didn't say who by. He probably could guess.

"Then this was expected. We have come to this year. Very far in the past." Boromir sighed. "I was _not_ forewarned."

"Neither was I, really." I muttered. "I was given a pack, a bow, and suddenly I was standing in poo. I'm a little lost."

Legolas had actually been acting a little odd. What had he said?

_"I'm sorry_."

Why had he said that? It worried me. It was one of those Elfy 'I_ can foresee things and you can't so I'm going to be vague and leave you guessing' _moments that _really_ annoyed me.

Boromir searched the map with his eyes. He touched the map at one point. "Then this is where we are. We have seen Gandalf-"

"How far in the past are we in?"

"This is the year 2941."

"I get that-" Well... I _had_ forgotten the exact number but... "-but how far back?"

"You didn't know the year you arrived?" Boromir's lip twitched. He was mocking me. "Of course not. It was the year 3018 when the great war began- when I set out for Rivendel. It ended in the year 3019."

I had to think about that a moment. Think about it with a mouthful of bitter ale.

So fifty... no... seventy or so years. Nearly eighty years in the past? Why the hell would we be here? Aragorn would be a kid right now._ A child. _Had we come back to … babysit?

"I don't get it." I muttered out loud.

"We are seventy seven years in the past." Boromir drank another.

"I get that-" Once again I didn't quite know exact figures but I got the general gist, "-but _why_?"

Boromir shrugged and drank deep. Then he stood. Left. Returned with a second drink for himself moments later, without so much as a single word to the young man behind the bar, and he rested down heavily. "Answers need to be found. We will go to Minas Tirith."

"Now?"

"No. Tonight we rest. I get us rooms." Boromir stood up.

I wasn't sure that was the right thing to do. Gandalf had been outside- we'd been plonked near him. Before Boromir moved away I asked, "Should we tell Gandalf and ask him?"

Boromir hesitated at that. He fingered the glass, slowly, and shook his head. "The Wizard is wise- if we needed his help, would he not be ready?"

I didn't know about that. Gandalf didn't know everything. _Why_ would we be here? What had happened seventy seven years before the War of the Ring? I breathed in slowly, my mind turning the situation over, and the honest truth was that I didn't quite believe I was here at all.

Moments ago I had been at home in Queensland Australia. Lying in bed after a night of naked fun,still nude, considering collecting roses from the garden, ordering lunchtime pizza and watching Game of Thrones in an air conditioned living room. Maybe a nap. My kid was out with family and while most people might have thought that seemed totally boring... it was all I daydreamed about. A nap. A fricken nap, Game of Thrones blaring in the living room without fear of scarring a child for life, and pizza that was _all mine and mine alone_.

It was going to be such a good day too.

I sighed, totally dissapointed, and when a hand closed over my hand I was jolted back to reality.

Bree. Boromir. His third ale.

"You're drinking a lot."

"Tis as weak as goat piss. Watered down." Boromir complained as he fingered it. He still drank it. Then, voice softening, he squeezed my hand with his. "We need not rush for answers. Let us ask around Bree, understand all that is happening here, and should I see the wizard, I would talk with him briefly for us."

"I could also ask Gandalf." I wasn't sure if that would help or not.

"Aye, so you could." He smiled then, a faint smile, and added, "But _you_ should be washing my clothing."

"Hmph." I snorted. "Because I'm the woman?"

"Because you are the woman who stood in poo and I am the gentle Lord who cleaned it for you so that you could enter a building with me without removing your boots." Boromir was teasing me. I could feel that. He smiled and drank once more, standing again, and tossed a key at me. "You should go upstairs and search your pack. Tell me what you have found. With your permission I will buy myself something that fits better and join you soon."

He glanced down at his modern jeans and I had to agree- the man stood out.

"Fine. Don't use all the coins."

"They will go far- I assure you." Boromir responded. "Do you have a knife? I have no sword..."

I handed him the knife in the bag and he headed outside.

The attention on us now focused on me. Not entirally unfriendly, exactly, but I was now a lone woman sitting in an Inn of old crusty men who were clearly alcoholic enough to need booze in the morning. I stood up as well with my ale still mostly full and left it there- they'd probably go for the alcohol before they went for me.

"Sorry-" I said, trying to be poilte, which did seem like a relief to the Innkeeper. "Where's my room?"

"Upstairs. Door three."

I nodded. Upstairs it was a bit of a 'match the symbol' to find the door, I had to hold the symbol on the key up to the symbol on each door, but with some relief I finally found the right door.

With the door locked and some moment alone I really had a chance to open the pack and see what we'd been given.

I had been expecting the most basic things. Nope. This time I had been given _everything_. Another knife, two knives in total when counting the one I had given Boromir, a modern fetching kit and glue, bow strings, flint and waterproof matches, foldaway trowel, toilet paper, compass, two multi tools, two first aid kits, two 'space blankets', two headlights, a blanket rolled inside a waterproof blanket attached to the bottom, water filtration tubes, a tube of stretchy flesh coloured fabric, wires, canteens, a long metal thing with a hook at the end... ice pick? … and two long slender ropes that were probably a lot stronger than they looked, even a couple of mirrors. Lembas bread wrapped up. And, carefully wrapped up beside it, I found a pair of two way radios.

The doubles of some of the things – which took up a lot of space- made me realise that Boromir was clearly expected. Half of this stuff was for him. It was a hell of a lot more than I'd started with last time I'd come here as well.

It was serious stuff. Serious survival stuff. It meant that whatever Legolas thought we were up to, we'd need to survive, we'd need to work together, and ... well, not kill each other.

Boromir knocked and I opened the door.

He hit me lightly across the arm, scowling, before sliding in and locking the door behind him. "Come on, woman, check before you open the door."

"It's _Bree_."

"No town, no matter how small, should be taken as a safe place when a woman seems to be alone." Boromir gazed down at the things I'd arranged across the bed and crossed his arms. "Two of things."

"For you as well." I had decided that had to be it- no clothing had been packed for me, lembas bread the only thing that had been packed for food, and if we halved these things there would be room in packs for the clothing. "Guess you need a pack."

Boromir nodded as he dropped a bundle on the part of the bed not yet covered in things. He opened it, tugging things out, and tossed me over something. "Then you will dress in this, I dress as well, and I will go out to get what we need."

"While I wait here?"

"It is safer."

I got the impression that he was protecting me, or thought he was, and didn't push it for now. "Well, fine. Where do you sleep?"

"On the floor."

"Here?"

Boromir nodded, hesitating a little at the look on my face, and said quieter, "I would not … propose anything. There was simply no other rooms."

That might have explained what the argument had been about earlier.

"I know." I felt that guilt rise up again, sudden, and held up my hands. "Sorry. I know. I guess it's cold there."

"It would be still far more comfortable than what we find on the road, I assure you, and so I have no concerns." Boromir turned his back to me and started to strip. "Change. I will not look."

I turned quickly at that and unwrapped the bundle he'd given me. He had gotten me what I used to wear- tunic, a long one, and leggings that went under my pants. Middle Earth kind of stuff. There was also a dress though, a long green dress made of a lightweight simple fabric with brown detail, and I hesitated as I stared at it.

"Did you want me to wear that?"

"The dress?" Boromir didn't turn around, at least I hoped he didn't, and he seemed amused as he answered, "It would be wiser here should you wish to not stand out. But on the road I do expect you to wear the men's clothing as you always did."

He was probably right about both points. I tugged on the dress and kept my 'modern' pants on underneath anyway. "Okay. I've got it on."

"I too have changed."

Boromir turned around, as I did, and we stared at one another. He looked closer to him older self in the dark red tunic and the black pants, his blonde hair a little askew around his face and ears, shorter and a bit flustered as he stared at me. "I am not used to seeing you in a dress."

"I'm not used to it either." I admitted. I stared down and tugged at the skirt. "We're camouflaged then."

"Then wait here-"

"And stay safe?"

"-and keep our belongings safe. I would not loose some of those items." Boromir gestured to the bed of goodies. "They are not replaceable. I believe this is a walk-e?" He lifted one of the two way radios.

"It's a two way radio. One for each of us." I guessed. Weird. "You take one. I take the other. You wind it for power- it works like a phone, you press-"

"I know." Boromir turned the little black object over in his hand. "I learnt to contact others with one of these at first should I get lost in the world..."

So my ex-boyfriend had used these things to train Boromir? Made sense. They were easier than mobile phones. They were also easier to charge than a mobile with a little winding handle. I felt an ache, suddenly, realising I didn't have my mobile phone this time. That felt strange... even more so because that meant I genuinely had no hope of contacting my family.

A strange whining nose made me jump. Boromir was winding his radio. I sat down on the bed beside him and did the same thing with the other, charging it, the two of us silent as we watched the little power button go up. He started to hum, quite loudly, some song that I hadn't heard before.

Maybe it was to cover up the sounds of the charging... or because it was better than a heavy awkward silence between us.

When his was charged enough Boromir stood up. "Then I will get us each a sword, myself a pack, cloaks, extra clothing and … blankets."

Oh yeah. Because there was only one blanket with the pack. I nodded and he once again left me in the room in the Inn.

Boromir took his time this time so I made myself busy by sorting out a pile for him, packing my bag again, and cleaning the shirt he'd left behind. The innkeeper had no issues with me doing that in the room- in fact he seemed to think it was a good idea I do it in the room- and had water brought up. Maybe he thought it was safer for a woman to do that alone? I wasn't in the mood to argue.

It was hung up out of the window in sunshine by the time Boromir got back and he didn't comment. He just silently started to pack his things, tossing my things over towards me, and I lifted the small sword.

"You have gained weight." Boromir muttered.

I flushed, self concious, and shot him a look as he evaluated me. It was true. I was overweight again, having little time to run around, but he didn't need to point it out. "Yeah..."

"Then you would not be very strong yet. You will have to allow me to train you with your sword when we are on the road." Boromir gazed at the hand holding my sword and he shook his head. "You have forgotten the most basic way to hold your sword. Have you not trained?"

"I've been using my bow." I responded as I tried to remember how to hold a sword. Um.

"A bow will have no use should we be robbed on the open road. It is not as practical." Boromir strode across and grabbed my wrist, twisting my arm, snapping as I almost fell over, "Feet are in the wrong position."

"Ow!"

"It would not hurt were you standing correctly." He let go and turned away, tugging a belt and sword around his waist, and strapping things on his wrists. Bracers. "I hope it has not been lost."

"Of course it hasn't." I muttered. I hoped. I also hoped it didn't matter. If we were here for … babysitting... then I didn't NEED to remember how to use a bloody sword. I had a horrible feeling I would need a sword though.

Another heavy silence fell between us. Both of us packed, though we weren't sure why, and Boromir slid both packs up and held each.

"Too heavy for you..."

"It's fine."

"If you say so. Tell me if you struggle- a heavy pack can slow you down." He responded. Boromir's mind was somewhere else. "The Innkeeper informs us that much talk can be heard as the day goes on, as the ale loosens tongues, and until then we may as well squeeze blood from stone. So we must relax and rest downstairs and keep an ear out."

Boromir held out my pack and I took it. It was pretty heavy.

"Okay." I hesitated, tempted to ask him to carry more, but my pride rose up. Nope. I'd already screwed him over enough in life... and he was recovering from cancer. So he wasn't exactly in peak condition either. "So we're going downstairs?"

"Aye. We will sit in a corner and wait." Boromir hesitated as he stared at me.

"What?"

He didn't answer for a moment. Then, face reddening, he shut the door and crossed his arms.

"I have changed my mind. You must dress as a man would."

"What?" I'd already packed it all away. I frowned and he stared down at me, arms tightening. "But-"

"In an Inn such as this one it would be safer. Few women are here. You should also hide your breasts and the jewellery..."

I had forgotten about that- the ring and the necklace. Staring down at my wedding ring, I immediately hated the idea, because it... it felt like a betrayal to 'hide' it. Still given the delicate work and the diamond... he was right. Such a thing would be tempting for any thief. We didn't need to risk that right now. We had answers to get.

"Fine." I said, quietly, and tugged off the necklace and the ring slowly, a strange sense of sadness washing over me as if I lost the last connection to Legolas through those objects. "Okay. Turn around and I'll change."

"Bind your chest."

"I can do that." I suddenly understood what that tube of stretchy fabric was for. It was for this exact purpose. Tugging off the dress I unpacked enough to find it- it took a bit of time- and by the time I was redressed in men's clothing Boromir seemed to relax. I slid the ring into a concealed pocket inside the tunic, along with the jewellery, unwilling to let it part from my body.

"Are you done?"

"Need to repack." I responded. "But yes."

Boromir turned and he joined me at the bed, helping me pack silently, only stopping a moment to unwrap a long brown cloak and drop it over my shoulders. He yanked my hair back, braiding it carefully, and dropped the hood over my head.

"Do I look like a man?"

"You are too clean and soft faced." He responded, half joking and half serious, but Boromir stared at me a very long time before he shrugged, turned away, and hoisted his pack back on. "They will not see much. It is dark downstairs."

"I'll rub some mud on my face later. So should you. You look clean as well." _Soft faced_? Was that another comment about my weight? I frowned at that- self-conciousness was really starting to rise now. I hadn't even thought about it all that much till now... maybe I _could_ loose weight. I had started to get a soft 'double chin' under my face...

Okay. Maybe I needed to loose a lot of weight.

"I will find dirt for us both. We are both far too clean, our packs unmarked, our clothes too new. But the darkness will conceal us."

Once _again_ that awkward silence fell. Neither of us spoke for a few long seconds and then, without a word, we exited the room again and this time we actually managed to lock the door and go downstairs.

Boromir was right about it being dark enough- not many would really see enough to guess I was a woman. I sat beside him in the corner, our arms squashed up against one another, hoods down, and when I looked at him, he was always focused on the inn, on each patron, never quite staring directly... but his attention was always outwards into the floor.

It was too quiet for us. It made me think too much, too many questions rise about his life since he'd left Middle Earth, all those years I'd lived just a few hours away and yet pretended he hadn't existed.

I had thought it was the best thing for us. ...or had it just been for me? We'd been good friends at one point.

I tried to watch the room as well but I honestly couldn't stop those thoughts from coming. It was either about the hurt I'd caused Boromir or about my family... because they would notice I wasn't there at some point. Would they be worried? Or would my elf boys already know what was happening?

That was actually very likely.

Why us? Why here? Why at all?

Crazy effing world. I kept being slammed back into it, over and over, when it honestly could do a pretty good job without me. Now I had Boromir here to help me screw it up all over again.

Pessimistic thoughts were only slightly improved by the arrival of lunch. We both ate- we were both clearly very hungry- but we barely talked or looked at one another. He didn't seem to know what to say to me. I had the same issue.

Instead I would finger the ring in my tunic, twisting it around, or hold the leaf pendant that I had been given years ago. It felt like my two contacts to my past. They felt safe there against my stomach.

As the day went on, Boromir going through his ales, the Inn grew busier with patrons of all kinds. Boromir had been right in that some people here did look fairly shady- probably the kind of people who'd love a woman to harass after a few beers. There were just as many farmers and other workers though- tired muddy faces who hadn't even bothered to wash before they'd trudged in here for a drink and something hot to eat.

Boromir grasped my arm, sudden, and whispered, "Is that not..."

He was looking at someone who had entered. Someone short, hairy, and clearly not a Hobbit. Doing my best to not stare (or get caught staring) I let the short man come into the light before I confirmed it.

"It's Thorin."

"The Dwarf _Thorin Oakenshield_. Use their full names, woman, it's a sign of respect." Boromir seemed in awe of the shorter man and for a moment he was caught up in that.

I was sure the man near us had heard us as well.

Voice softening, I asked, "You know about him?"

"I have lived in the same world as you- I have also seen the moovee." Boromir retorted. He finally looked away, as Thorin glanced in our direction, and drank. "So this is our purpose?"

"Nope."

"It must be." Boromir shook his head slowly. "You have already done this once, have you not?"

"Denied." I was not going through that hell again. Not a chance. The last time I'd been dumped into a Middle Earth storyline... Well, it hadn't ended badly for me, but it was still a hell of a lot to take in. I didn't want to do it again. "It has to be something else."

"The Ring." Those two words, whispered softly from Boromir, got my attention. He had gone pale all of a sudden as he spoke, his eyes in his drink, voice a little weakened. "Then it is-"

"You know we can't mess with that." Concern rose up in me. Boromir did not have a good track record with that thing. "Boromir..."

"Aye, I know, for it would change too much. Not even Ganda-" Boromir cut off suddenly, startled, as Gandalf appeared in the Inn. If Gandalf had seen us or knew we were there he didn't let on. He headed straight for the Dwarf. Boromir finally looked at me and he nodded- his face grim all of a sudden. "I could not do such a thing. I have been taught about changing the future from your stories."

"My stories?"

"The 'moveee' Back to the Future. It showed me why you had to act the way you did at times." Boromir added, softer, "It was one of the stories told to me while I was in the hospital."

Oh. Thanks, hospital, for showing Boromir that. Maybe that would be a good thing. I sighed softly and tried to relax. At least Boromir seemed to be on page with 'Don't screw up the future'. Hopefully that extended to not snatching the ring off Bilbo, not stealing it from Gollum himself, and not telling Gandalf (or Elves) what kind of ring it was. Yeah. That would be nice.

The idea of Boromir being so close to Bilbo was suddenly not such a nice idea. I had another reason to want to deny this entire thing. I didn't trust Boromir with that thing.

I lifted the spoon of soup to my mouth and ate quietly, ears peeled for the words spoken between Gandalf and Thorin just a few tables away along the wall, but the crowds of patrons made it very difficult for us to hear anything. Boromir leaned forward on the table, his eyes on the food but his attention on them as well. There were other Dwarves now- I could see them gathering around- some at the bar, and some at tables. They must have come in while we were talking.

Such a large gathering of Dwarves did get attention. We weren't the only ones watching them and... as much as I hated to admit it: we were both suddenly obsessed what was going on. I hated the idea of getting involved but I wasn't sure why else we'd be here.

"But it makes no sense-" I muttered, mostly to myself, trying to verbally puzzle it all out.

"Shh.." Boromir hissed.

I shhed.

We didn't hear much though. Mostly loud cheerful talking from the six or so Dwarves, Thorin unseen in the corner with Gandalf, the dwarves themselves so focused on their drinks, their food, and their conversation that they hadn't seen Gandalf or Thorin.

"They're the ones." I said quietly. "Right?"

It was an obvious question- those Dwarves had a way of doing their hair and beards so that we'd be pretty dumb to not recognise them. The pretty twins were there- Kili and Fili- I thought that was their name sitting beside the young dark blond dwarf with the bowl-and-braids haircut and the sweet face. The big dwarf with the big belly and the long braid was there eating, as he apparently always did, and his name was clear to me. Bombur. I remembered him all right. There was a bald dwarf, all scar-faced, with the tattoos on his head, dressed in fur and with a pretty noticeable lack of 'pretty beard' and beside him was one Dwarf I remembered only because I'd met his son. Gloin- Gimli's father.

I wondered if Gimli was even born.

"They're with his Company." Boromir said softly. He'd scooted closer, almost too close, our bodies pressed up in the dark space as he pointed each one out with a subtle move of his finger. "Kili, Fili, Ori, Dwalin, Gloin and the big one was Bombur..."

"I remember some of their names."

I was suddenly far too aware of Boromir's body against my arm. Too close. I scooted sideways a little. It wasn't ...attraction... but it was an awareness of how much he had changed physically. His arm was slightly less muscular than I remembered.

"How do you remember the names?" I continued, a little flustered, trying to act as if I hadn't just moved away from physical contact. His face had hardened and he straightened up. A distance fell between us that was more than air- the tenseness returning.

"I watched the movee often." Boromir admitted. He glanced down at his hand, fingers tracing the rough surface of the table, the lines of his face and the shadows around his eyes exaggerated as a sadness came to cling to the edges of his eyes and mouth.

"You missed home?"

"Aye. I missed many things. The smell of human waste-" Boromir tried to smile, wrinkling his nose, "-was not one of them. Surely we could bring Middle Earth toilets and baths. The last time you came you had to join the group, yes?"

"Yeah." I was distracted by the Dwarves- it was easier than looking at the elephant in the room named Boromir- and they weren't making it hard to catch the attention of everyone. "I guess I didn't have much say in that."

Boromir went quiet beside me. I caught the motion of him lifting the drink once again, a good amount of dark ale vanishing in the glass, and then he was standing. "Wait here."

"Huh?" I nearly stood up as well and very well might have if one of his hands hadn't shoved me back down onto my butt in the seat.

Boromir strode across to Thorin. His face may have been hidden from me with a back in my direction but I could picture his face without needing to see it- that stride and posture I remembered _very well_. Shoulders up, chin up, the men moving out of his way eyes diverted from him without even knowing who he was... because Boromir, Captain of the White Tower, Lord of Gondor - plus several other titles I couldn't think of - and well balanced egotistical man was back in the house. Inn. Middle Earth. Whatever.

That was not a good sign. He was up to something.

I did stand up to follow, ignoring his order, hurrying through the crowded room, finding it a little more difficult for me to get the same 'crowds parting effect' that he got. I was ignored for different reasons- being shorter, fatter, and generally non-threatening, people didn't even bother moving for me. Not till Boromir reappeared with a raise of his eyes, a soft groan of, "Would you not follow _one order_?" and hoisted me behind him in the crowd.

"I followed one earlier." I muttered to his back.

It was much easier to follow him while he parted the crowds for both of us.

"What are you up to?"

"Shh, and let me talk."

I didn't like this. I disliked it even more when I found myself nudged to Boromir's side and was just a foot away from an openly suspicious Gandalf and Thorin.

Boromir bowed, low, and when he hit me lightly with a grunt of, "Respect," I did the same thing.

"Thorin Oakenshield. It is an honour."

"What do you want?" It wasn't really a question. Thorin wasn't impressed. If anything the mention of his name had tensed him up. He stared up at us both, eyes boring straight through us hoods and all, and Boromir lowered his hood.

"We would join you."

"Join me?"

"We know what task it is you are going to undertake." Boromir's voice had lowered. "Allow us to come. We would support your quest without expectation of payment, beyond that which you feel we deserve, simply for-"

"Boromir, bad idea, bad bad I-" I muttered only to be cut off once again.

"Shh." He muttered. "Let us join you. Myself and my brother."

"Why?" Gandalf spoke up. I noticed that the table was clear now, the maps and such gone between himself and Thorin, although I could have sworn I'd seen them there earlier. I hadn't seem them moved either. Gandalf turned towards us now, examining us both, an eyebrow raised. "What reasons do you have to serve a Dwarf without payment?"

"Dale."

This was not what I was expecting from Boromir. I was expecting honour, glory, or some other excuse that, from anyone else, would be bullshit. From Boromir it would be fact. He liked all that stuff. 'Dale' confused me a moment.

"Dale?"

"It was where our family came from." Boromir continued. "We descend from the last Lord of Dale and it is our right, our _duty_, to return the King under the Mountain to where he belongs."

Wait. What? I stood there, stunned, more than willing to stay quiet now.

It had gotten Thorin's attention though. "You are the descendent of the Lord Gilgron?"

"No." Boromir shook his head. "No such man. We descend from Lord Girion."

I was confused for a moment. Boromir's change of name, however, seemed to do something to Thorin's distrust- it seemed to melt away somewhat. Had he been testing us with the wrong name? How the hell did Boromir know the right name? Had he just spent the past five years memorizing all the world lore or something? I had to let those questions pass for now.

"Each of you would not get an equal share. This is Dwarven treasure."

"Restoring your place in your Mountain would also restore Dale and the glory it held." Boromir responded evenly. "What greater reward is there than that?"

"And you-" Thorin turned his eyes to me, which totally scared me for some reason, his eyes now going deep into mine as if he could see right through me. "You agree? You would risk life and limb for this?"

_No_. Fuck Boromir. Fuck all this war, fighting, and the horrors I'd seen in the first Hobbit film. I still had nightmares from the Fellowship 'adventures'. But I was here now. I was here, in Bree, and there was some stupid reason for it. "Yes."

Thorin went quiet a moment, his eyes going from myself to Boromir and back again, tension rising between the three of us. Gandalf didn't seem to even be there now... and it was very strange. Thorin gazed us both over now, openly taking in our bodies, our posture, and I sensed he was seeing more than we'd like.

"I have skill with sword and Wendu-"

Thorin turned to his drink. The spell was broken, Boromir's words cut off with the simple gesture, Thorin's attention on his food, dismissing us with a simple, "No. Go home."

"No?"

"We need no men unsuited to the hardships of the world. You both return to your home, and when Dale is safe, you may then find a safe path to it. I will remember your offer and when we meet, when I am King, I will be grateful."

I supposed he thought he was being gracious or something... but Thorin had no idea how much he'd just insulted Boromir. Boromir's jaw had dropped. I could see his lips etching the words 'unsuited' and I grabbed his arm. Okay then. We were rejected. No joining Thorin's company.

This time it was me dragging Boromir away.

Boromir seemed to come to his senses halfway to the table and he turned, grasping my arm, more or less marching me upstairs. The moment we were in our room he threw his pack down, his hands flexing, anger and humiliation exploding all over the place.

"How ... _unsuited_..."

"Boromir, relax."

Boromir scowled at me and yanked my pack off my back, tossing it aside, before he yanked his cloak off. "I cannot accept this. We are here in Bree- at the time of _Thorin's company_- and yet we are rejected?"

"Yes. We're rejected. Must be a mistake that we're here. Boromir-"

Boromir flung something at the wall and cut me off, some kind of water jug, and the sudden outburst of anger shocked me as he swore in very human, very 'modern English' language, his face red with rage. It was almost unreasonable anger... and I frowned, watching him, as he paced up and down breaking the furniture. Great. He was trashing the Inn. He'd seemed pretty calm before... but how many drinks had he drunk over the day?

I hadn't even really considered that he might have been getting drunk. He hadn't behaved drunk. Maybe this anger wasn't just about Thorin. He seemed to be avoiding staring at me.

"Boro-"

"Quiet."

"Really, it's okay."

My attempts did not help. When I went to touch his arm, he almost shoved me backwards, his entire body jumping and his eyes locking on me with a terrible kind of hurt and betrayal. Now that I looked at him... he did have red cheeks, a red nose, and his neck seemed redder than usual...

"Get out." Boromir said quietly. "Give me some time alone."

"What?"

Boromir turned on me, furious, and flung something at me. "Out, woman, out! I cannot bear to look at you and would not say something I regret. Get out and leave me alone for a while."

"I-"

I had to duck the chair- or really the remains of it- and decided it wasn't a bad idea. Leaving him to his anger and humiliation I ducked out of the room and left Boromir- once _again_ rejected- alone.

I flopped down in the chair downstairs, defeated, and a little lost myself. Great. So ... _now what_?

Maybe it was because I was calm, even happy about being rejected, but somehow I couldn't … connect to Boromir's anger. It seemed strange to me. Downstairs into the Inn I found myself in the same seat I'd been in just minutes earlier and sat there confused.

It really didn't make sense.

The Dwarves were still there, laughing, drinking, and given that there was no Hobbit with them I had to assume they were on their way to Bilbo's place now. Gandalf had vanished though- I didn't know where the wizard was and he was so strange to me compared to the Gandalf I'd once known that I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

I supposed I was a little surprised too. Did I _want_ to do all that stuff?

Not really.

Still- Boromir was probably being pretty logical in assuming that by us being here, at the same time as the Dwarves, that we were supposed to JOIN the Dwarves. It probably also hurt his pride for him to be told he was 'too soft'.

The sad thing was- Thorin was right.

Boromir had gotten soft, less muscled, and I had gained weight. Neither of us had probably done any extended hiking or training for quite some time with two very good reasons- I had a kid to look after and Boromir had a potentially lethal illness to fight. Maybe he'd kept up with some of his sword work in the same way I'd kept practising my bow- that was one thing I had always been able to safely admit I could do since I was a child and had done it in the professional world sports arena before Middle Earth- but even with _that_ we were both in pretty rough shape. I hadn't been in competitive condition for archery for several years now.

Boromir had even said it himself- our clothes were new, we weren't dirty, we stood out as two very soft and very clean city based people who clearly had very little muscle tone and very little fitness. No wonder why Thorin had rejected him.

I sat quietly and as I did, the Dwarves left in small groups, lastly followed by Thorin. Then they were all gone.

So …was that it?

Were we basically not involved in their thing?

I wasn't sure why I felt a little let down by that. Honestly. It wasn't like I really should have expected it for all the reasons I'd just gone over. Also... I really didn't want to fight.

It would have been nice to know WHY we'd been dropped in Bree though. Maybe it really had been some kind of mistake.

The good news for the day was that I was ignored now. People were far too busy, beautiful women serving beer (or ale) with their clevage hanging out, and Boromir appeared several times downstairs for handfuls of drink.

By the fourth time the Innkeeper seemed suspicious.

Maybe there was rubble on Boromir's body, maybe he'd mentioned something, but I watched passively from behind my meal of bread and cheese as the Innkeeper called for one of the guards over.

From there it happened pretty fast.

They vanished upstairs, there was the sound of thumping and raised voices, and to my shock Boromir was more or less kicked down the stairs with both packs, the Innkeeper there with Bree Guards, Boromir crashing onto the wooden floor amongst feet with no dignity whatsoever.

"Leave!" The Innkeeper shouted, furious. Woops. Must have seen what Boromir had done to his room. "Both of you! No money's worth this. This Inn has been in my family for generations!"

Boromir got up, heavy, looking a little drunker and redfaced than he had when I'd left him. Silently, his shoulders drooping, he left the Inn with both packs in his hands. I got up and hurried after him.

It was drizzling rain outside now. Mud sank around my boots, possibly more than mud, and Boromir was seen walking dejectedly along the street towards the walls.

"Oi!" I called, annoyed, running through the soft road after him. It annoyed me even more to find myself a little breathless after a short run. "You leaving _without me_?"

"Forgive a man for hoping you had been sent home." Boromir responded, shoulders still low, his hair already getting heavy and thick with the rain. He held out my pack.

"Leave you alone here?" I hoisted the pack onto my back, strapping it there, and crossed my arms. "You're drunk."

Basically... what the hell? What had happened to the strong guy I'd left behind?

"I can survive here." Boromir responded. He still wouldn't look at me and he seemed a little unsteady.

"Come on." I grasped his pack, yanking it out of his hands, and sighed. Why had I wanted rain? "We better figure out what to do."

"Sleep. I just want to sleep."

"Should have thought of that before you decided to trash their Inn. _Drink and_ trash their inn." I corrected myself, as he moved beside me on feet that were clearly unsteady, and I sighed. The packs were heavy and I had to admit I staggered a little too. Okay. Time to get into 'Middle Earth' mentality. I had to think like a … like a... adventurer. Yep.

"So we should go outside the town and make a camp." I decided. "Right. Come on."

"Mm." Boromir grunted. He was still off in his little pity party.

I sighed, moved ahead, and trusted that the drunk man would follow. I only hoped that tomorrow he'd have a beautiful hangover so I could question him AND remind him why we didn't drink like this.

* * *

A/N Welcome to the first chapter. So to speak. :)

Just letting everyone know... this is mostly for my amusement! I love to mess with worlds and I _love_ to make things hard for my characters. Those packs are about as much help as they're going to get... and that's only because Wendy has a soft hearted soulmate. This is NOT going to be a love story... at least not in the same way the last was... but there will be all kinds of fun. I promise. :) You're welcome to suggest things, dilemmas, guess, predict, and even 'pair' up characters... but keep in mind that this writing is mostly a 'keep writing' exercise for me. I don't mind plot suggestions OR constructive crit... but flat out flaming is just not on.

That out of the way... if you want to come along with me on another journey then welcome and let's go! Bring something warm. I recommend hot chocolate.


	3. Two is company and seven means food

Boromir sat there while I made a fire. It wasn't happening though- the ground was wet, the wood was wet, and after a moment I just flopped back feeling a little grumpy and frustrated with the whole situation.

It wasn't raining hard though and we were fairly okay under the trees outside the town. I sighed and rubbed my face as I pictured the bed.

The night was a long one. We sat there, completely ignored and alone, a sorry soggy pair of idiots under the trees with no quest, no adventure, and no direction. Also no fire. At least Boromir seemed drunk enough to sleep through most of it. When he started to snore I knew there was no waking him.

"Fine." I muttered and chucked a chunk of wet grass in his direction, "Fine. You snore away."

I was tired as well though. All we'd done was sit and 'wait'... and yet I was exhausted somehow. Even with the wet ground under my butt and the dribbling rain through the trees I fell asleep as well, leaning over the pack, using the pack as my 'bed'. It was not comfortable.

The flare of warmth across my face was what woke me. I wasn't woken by the presence of people, nor was I woken by the movement around me, my survival skills totally shot. No. It was the feeling of warmth on my face and the feeling of being lowered down.

At first I thought it was Legolas. He'd found me passed out in front of the TV before. It wasn't though- the touch was a little rougher, harder, and when I opened my eyes I found myself face to back with the back of a hairy head.

"Pass the sausages." Someone grunted nearby, a short hairy man holding out a plate, and the smell of sausages rose up in my head as I visibly saw the frying pan full of crackling brown tubes of joy pass across the gap illuminated by a very happy camp fire.

Huh?

"You woke her." Someone else complained. A friendly face appeared, someone kneeling beside me, and I got who it was straight off. Ori. The bowl-and-braids Dwarf. "Sorry. Are you hungry?"

"Course she is. Grab her a sausage before Gloin eats the lot." Fili snatched a fork, Kili grabbed the frying pan, the two of them managing to steal two of the sausages before Bombur could protect it with his arms.

"I need something." Gloin complained.

"You've had many things all day. Here."

I was handed the plate of sausage, still confused and sleepy, and as I sat up I saw that Boromir and myself were now surrounded by four of the six dwarves from earlier and a new Dwarf- a white haired dwarf who I recognised as Balin.

This probably should have been expected... but I was totally confused.

"What are you all doing here?"

"You looked cold." Gloin responded, grunting somewhat as he added, "And there were not enough rooms in the Inn. May as well share a fire."

"It's only fair." Oni agreed. He knelt in front of the fire and reached out for it, rubbing his hands, his eyes on us both. "We saw you getting him out here."

"Drunk." Fili added.

"Good wife."

"Oh, no. I'm not his wife." I sat up slowly and balanced the plate on my knees. It took me a moment or too to remember I was supposed to be a 'brother'. "I'm a ...brother."

"Sure you are, lass, sure you are." Balin responded. He seemed amused. "Secret's safe with us."

"Aye- our own women play this game. You need a better beard though." Kili agreed. He offered a fork and continued, "Eat before it gets cold."

I took a bite of the hot sausage, all meaty and salty, and had to admit it was a welcome way to be woken up. Energy seemed to flood my body from that one mouthful and I exhaled slowly as the heat of the fire and the warmth of the food filled my body.

"Good, right?" Oni moved to sit on the other side and looked upwards towards the stars, a hand raised to shield his face from droplets of water, wondering aloud, "We got time for sleep?"

"Should have plenty." Kili nodded as he too gazed upwards to the stars.

When I looked up all I saw were clouds and stars. No clocks.

"You going far, lass?" Gloin turned to me.

"Um. We're not sure yet." I responded between bites. "I guess I was going to wait for Boromir to wake up and then we'd figure it out."

"Ah, I see. You need to learn how to take care of yourselves then. You could get sick." Kili moved forward. "Need us to show you to make a fire?"

"Not now. Let the woman eat and sleep. Tomorrow, when her brother-" Gloin turned to me, "-Brother, yes?"

I had to hesitate.

I didn't want to lie to Balin's face, nor to any of the others, and somehow it seemed wrong. So, carefully, I admitted, "Well..."

"Is it that complicated?"

"We're friends but... I married another man. It's not easy for him to travel alone with me after that."

This seemed to make sense to them all. Kili exhaled, a low whistle as he shook his head, the others looking sympathetic all of a sudden towards Boromir and his 'state'.

"So that's it." Fili raised his eyes. "This is the problem with women. Too few of them, they don't decide straight off, and leave destruction in their wake. Better to stick to jewels."

"_Hey_." That hurt!

"Hay?" Balin repeated softly. "No, hay is no substitute for jewels."

"Not even for a rejected man." Oni seemed almost sad at this.

"Your husband still alive then?"

"Yeah." Damn right he was.

Kili patted Boromir's knee at that with a, "Got it. Poor man. We better be easy on him on the drink then..."

I frowned, appetite fading a little at this talk, and hated to admit... they were probably right. Still it had been _years_. How long did a man take to get over things? I didn't know. I supposed I hadn't stopped feeling bad for years...

"Aye. When he's woken we'll make sure they both know how to light fires. And perhaps give him a short word on leaving a woman unprotected while he drinks off the ale." Balin cut in once again. He gestured to me, a kind smile on his face, insisting, "You eat up and rest. We won't go far."

"We do have to go to the meeting..." Gloin reminded him.

"Should still make it in time, even with a few hours spent here, and there's no rush." Balin responded. "Eat up-" He paused, eyes on me, and I realised I hadn't yet given my name.

"Wenduin."

"Wenduin. Strange name for a human woman." Fili dug into a sausage.

"Elvish?"

"Well, call me Wendy then." Crap. I had forgotten that name had been 'Elvish'. I'd been using it for so long, even had legally changed my own name to it, that I had totally forgotten where it had come from.

"Wendy it is. And the man?"

"Boromir."

"That's a name more suited to the race of Men." Balin nodded at this. He reached up to arrange his beard, his fingers tweaking the points, and pointed at himself. "Balin. Then Kili and Fili," A gesture to each of the twins, who bowed their heads, Fili still with his mouth wrapped around half a sausage, "Bombur," as the hand went to the overweight dwarf – now fast asleep with a fork still clutched tight in one hand- who only snorted at the sound of his name, "Gloin and Oni," To the dwarf I reconised as Gimli's father, mostly, the bulky dwarf who actually looked like he was suited for fighting and then to the young dwarf with the bowl-and-braids haircut. Oni was half asleep, his head on his chest, his eyes only raising in a half-smile in my direction as he tried to fight the sleep. Gloin, on the other hand, was still wide awake and had shuffled forward to adjust the fire with additional wood that splattered as the soggy bark met the heat of fire.

A pair of men passed by, so sudden, so unexpected, that everyone went quiet and watched them. The men stared back openly- mostly at the dwarves, though their attention grew even more curious at the sight of two 'men' with them in the light of the fire. They seemed a little drunk, a little too friendly, and as they detoured towards us – and a small barrel of ale I hadn't noticed before- Gloin shifted to his feet.

"Move on." Gloin grunted, as they seemed to detour towards us, and there was a glint of metal as an axe appeared.

"We're moving." The first man was quick to stagger back. His voice slurred as he added, "Jusht wanted bit more to drink, tis all..."

"No need … no need for violence..." The second man held up his hands. He staggered off after his friend, glancing back only once, the two of them lost in the dark of the night.

"Your food is getting cold." Gloin turned to me, axe still in hand, and while I suspected it wasn't really a threat... I took that as a polite 'Please don't waste food that dwarves give you as they'd gladly eat it themselves'.

So I ate, starting to feel waves of exhaustion wash back over me in the presence of these dwarves, the warmth of the fire easing my body into a state of relaxation that I hadn't felt all day. It wasn't soon after that I fell asleep against the thing I'd been offered to lie on- which was a rolled up cloak- and dreamed of home.

The next morning it was a bit of a shocked awakening. Someone's shout of "Get into the bushes, what if the lady sees you?" woke me and then I found, eyes opening quickly, the sight of a Dwarf pissing into the bushes across the road, his big hairy backside making for a not so plesent sight.

"The woman's wedded, is she not? Seen stranger things than a Dwarf's behind." Gloin grunted and there was a shift of his body as he hoisted his pants back up. He didn't seem the least bit embarrassed to find that I was awake. He just grunted again, "Morning," and dropped down beside the embres of last night's fire.

"Sorry." Balin offered, as I sat up slowly, and he seemed to geninuely mean it. "Rough times, these are, and we forget our manners."

"He's right. I have seen some pretty odd things." I shrugged it off. "Even before I was married."

"Aye, she has." Boromir responded. His eyes met mine, his bloodshot eyes, and he seemed a little pale as he hoisted himself up off the ground where he'd passed out. One side of his head was just a matted crazy mess of dark blonde hair, sticking up, fragments of stick, grass and mud in it. "I feel sick."

"And no surprise given the state you were in last night!" Kili laughed. The sound made Boromir wince. It just made Kili laugh harder, Fili joining in, both of them grinning at the man. "Cannot hold your drink well, can you?"

"It's been some time since I have drunk." Boromir muttered. His hand reached up to touch his head and he cringed as he found the mess in it. "Very long time."

"That'd do it." Fili offered Boromir something. "Drink the water. Get it out. You can't travel like that."

It was only now that Boromir seemed to realise that he was surrounded by Dwarves. It was kind of amusing as he really did a double take, his bleary eyes focusing on Fili, and then he gazed around the small group of Dwarves with the shock I'd probably had on my face last night. "Dwarves?"

"Aye." Balin agreed. "Dwarves."

"Did Thorin accept us then?" Boromir looked at me. He seemed totally confused. "I thought we were refused?"

"Thorin?" That got Bombur's attention- he turned towards us, eyes on us, food once again in his mouth. Looked like the fat from the frying pan.

"No." I put in quickly.

"What do you mean- refused?" Kili seemed to wake up a little at this, his grin fading, and he sat up straighter. "What business do you have with Thorin Oakenshield?"

"Dal-" Boromir started and then, his face paling, he turned and a flood of water and stomach contants poured out onto the grass.

"Dal?" Oni blinked. He was standing now, reaching down to hold Boromir's hair, patting his back awkwardly. "There there."

"Dale." I explained. I wasn't sure why I was- I still wasn't really keen on going and I doubted saying anything now would change that- but I decided to explain while Boromir was busy throwing up. "Boromir wanted to avenge Dale and assist Thorin. Without any kind of gold returned. That's all."

"That's all? That's no small thing to offer." Gloin turned towards us both. "You were turned down?"

"He does what he thinks is right." Balin responded, shaking his head, adding, "But it was an offer appreciated none the less, I imagine, if a little unexpected. Not many know of our quest."

Boromir went to answer, cringed, and took a long drink of water. I had no idea how to answer that.

"I thought we were the only ones. How did you find out about it?" Fili's grin had faded and he stared at us. "Maybe we better get moving a bit sooner."

"Maybe you're right." Balin agreed. "If the news is spreading."

"How did you find out about it?" Kili repeated Fili's question.

Boromir seemed able to answer now, spitting water out, his face red with embarrassment. "Dale. We're the … the ..." Every word seemed to get him closer to being sick again and he cringed. I could tell this was killing him inside...

Oh right.

"The decendants of the Lord of Dale."

"Yes." Boromir "We've kept an ear out."

"It was a lucky guess after that. Honestly- we weren't really told much at all. Just that it was time for ...well, for things to return to the way they were. You can't blame Boromir for wanting to avenge everything that happened."

"That explains some of it." Even then, I noticed, the Dwarves had lost some of their warmth towards us. We didn't have the same trust as we had earlier. The quest was suppose to be secret. Balin stood up. "Then you should wait for us near the Mountain- if you're not coming with us, then meet us after."

"Tough road though. Take your time." Fili agreed. He too stood. The others had started to pack up.

So much for 'talking to Boromir and teaching us to make fire'. We'd said too much and they were anxious about how many more people knew about what they were up to.

"Don't tell anyone. Not a single person." Kili agreed. He took the cloak I'd slept on, unrolling it and dropping it over his shoulders.

"We only talked to you about it." I tried to reassure them. "I promise."

"You don't seem like a bad woman. Just remember- there's too many who'd want this information. Stay safe and travel safe."

Bombur and Gloin had already started away, packs on ponies that I hadn't noticed before, and now the others moved to join them. Two by two the Dwarves left, moving at different speeds, leaving Boromir and myself alone with just the fire and the smell of Boromir's vomit.

"Guess we better-" I started, hesitating as Boromir bent forward to throw up once again, and sighed. "-heat up more water for you to drink. Just rest and let it come out."

That was how I spent the morning. I got the fire going again and located the well in Bree while Boromir sat around sick as a dog. He slept, drank water, and vomited, and the sun was high in the sky by the time he seemed to properly wake up again.

"Sorry." Boromir grunted, soft, and added, "I have not drunk for … some time."

"I can tell." I muttered. I had the horrible feeling it was me that had helped bring it on. "Sorry as well."

"No- do not be. I … I … am very angry with myself. Not with you." Boromir sighed. "Many bad choices have been made in the past few years. Did I not tell you that I would support your choice?' Boromir hoisted himself up, slowly, and groaned as his body refused to cooperate. He flopped back onto his pack. "I have grown fat. I am old."

"You're not fat _or_ old." I responded.

"Drunk then. I had made it to a year and a week sober and yet yesterday I … I broke it." Boromir groaned. I saw him tug a pin out of his tunic. Was that an Alcoholics Annonymus pin?

"You … is that..." I didn't know how to ask. How did you ask these things?

"I survived more than you. I survived the cancer, I survived the alcohol, and I survived the War of the Ring when I should not. And yet look at me." Boromir scowled down at his body as he flung the pin aside. "I am in an Inn and I cannot resist to drink. I am unsuited to the life of a warrior. I am soft and old."

"Hiking will make you get stronger and let's face it. There won't be much alcohol on the road." I tried to cheer him up. I wasn't sure how to help him. Everything he said, every word against himself, made Boromir's face twist with a kind of ugly pain that made him look ten years older than he really was.

Had he really been an alcoholic?

I should have been there for him. I should have been a friend even if I couldn't be a lover.

"I cannot … I … I only want to go back to that Inn and to drink." Boromir put his head into his hands and I heard him groan. "I was not always so weak."

"No. But you won't always be like this."

"Then you think me weak?"

Oh god.

"Well," I tried, heart sunk low, feeling totally depressed now. "Well I can't say yet. We'll have to see how you go on the road to Minas Tirith, right?"

"Minas Tirith." Boromir echoed the words slowly. "Home. It would not be the same."

"No but didn't you want to start there?"

"I did." He agreed. He looked over his shoulder at where he'd been sick, half of it on him, and I heard Boromir sigh once again. "I had hoped to see you in a better place. With a wife."

"Same."

"Wendy- I have a child."

The words shocked me. I stared at Boromir as he tried to smile, though there was a great deal of pain there, and slowly he pulled something out from his pack. It was a photo of a toddler, blonde, big Boromir-like grin, sitting waist deep in sand at the beach.

"She is a bastard." He added, regret across his face, gazing down at her with a mixture of pain and love. "I could not marry the woman. All that matters little to me, I love my daughter all the same, but they will not let me see her."

"Why not?"

"Because I was a drunkard. I was unsuitable to be her father."

Oh god.

There it was, that pain again, and I started to see all the things that had made the once egotistical and great Boromir turn into a semi-broken man. It wasn't just me. I felt stupid for just thinking that.

"Sorry... I mean it, I'm really sorry."

"She will turn two in just a month. I had been trying to not drink, to earn enough for the law of the land, and to be a good man but I have ruined this, have I not? There will be no work for me now that I have vanished." Boromir traced the face of his daughter, breathing out slowly, eyes shutting. "I-"

"Okay enough."

"What?" His eyes flew open.

I felt bad for Boromir. I felt really bad for him.

But I was sick of it. The man was a shadow of who he used to be and it made me angry. I stood up, ignoring the sticky chunky bits of vomit all over the place, and shoved Boromir's pack at him. "Stop it. Stop the pity party. You can't fix it by being sad about it, can you? Get yourself cleaned up- there's still water- and clean up your vomit off the clothing. At least you can do something good, right?"

"Is that an _order_, woman?" There was so much sadness there, so much tiredness, and it only made me angrier.

"_Yes_." I decided. "Yes. Do that and I'll … I'll figure it out. We'll get back somehow so you can keep working and you can arrange your daughter to meet my son. Okay?" Maybe I was being harsh. I didn't know. I just couldn't stand to see him like this. It made me angry at _everything_. Especially the mother of this toddler. Boromir would be a fucking fantastic father. He may not have much understanding of my world, he might even have an issue with alcohol, but the man would have been incredible with a kid. Now some woman thought she could deny him time with his own kid?

It made me wonder what the hell kind of woman he'd fallen into bed with.

"Fine." Boromir agreed. "As you order."

"Good."

I helped him to his feet, both of us finding it difficult to get the heavy man up, and after several failed attempts on his part to get the belt undone- I had to assume it was a headache making it hard given how much Boromir kept wincing with his eyes half shut- I finally gave in and helped him.

"Like old times." He tried to joke.

I smiled up at him, shaking my head, just relieved to see that some part of the man was still okay. "Don't get ideas, _my Lord._"

"Never." Boromir shook his head.

I left him to changing and as he dressed in clean clothing I took the clothing and started to wash the crap off it. This was something else I hadn't missed from the 'War of the ring' days. Trying to do laundry without a washing machine. Bree had a river, thankfully, and the river made most of the work pretty simple.

I sat there, slapping the clothing on the edge of the bank, and soon a shirtless Boromir joined me beside the river. Boromir dunked his head into the water, filth and crap going everywhere as he tried to wash his head, and when he lifted his head he did seem a little clearer eyed.

"What's her name?"

Boromir flushed then, embarrassment returning to his face as he turned to meet me, and with some embarrassment he admitted, "Her name is Bella. Her middle name is Eowyn."

"Eowyn?" My lips curved up in amusement. "Good choice."

"I thought so." Boromir agreed. He yanked a twig out of his hair, tossing it aside, droplets of water running down his bare chest. He wasn't overweight, I noticed, though he had a softness to his stomach and arms now where muscle used to be. The old scars from his warrior days- including the arrow scars- were still there and as obvious as ever.

Boromir tugged on a tunic as I stared, reminding me of who I was staring off, and his eyes seemed unable to meet mine a moment as he muttered, "Thanks for that."

"What?"

"Washing them. They must smell."

They had. I shrugged and shoved the shirt back underwater, scrubbing it against a rock, before lifting it up and inspecting it with a critical eye as the sunlight came out in full force. "It's not that bad. Sun's hot- things should dry. How's your head?"

"Urgh." Boromir grunted. One hand rubbed across his forehead and across his scalp, rubbing hair back up in a bizarre near-spike, as he tried to shield the reflecting sun from his eyes. "It would be better were it not so bright outside. Where to now?"

"After this stuff has dried?"

"I had been thinking." Boromir stood up, slow, movements heavy and cumbersome as he took the wet clothing from me. He hoisted it over a branch, cringing as the movement sent a fresh wave of pain to his head, and he moved into the shade before he continued. "The map you have- I looked at as you washed."

"Where did you want to go?" I honestly had no clue. We were rejected from the Hobbit thing.

"Come- out of the sun."

I did it, mostly out of sympathy for his still hungover head, and Boromir held out the map for us both to stare at.

It was a fairly detailed map. Roads, towns, places which had been important to the storyline in general, but there were also additional notes written in Legolas' practised handwriting. I had to squit to look closer.

"Your Elf has given us good help." Boromir was close to me as he read it, frowning lightly, his finger tracing across a road that apparently led from Bree to some place called Tharbad. There was an X on it. "I agree."

"About?"

"The pass of Tharbad is not one we should undertake. I passed across it when I was younger and stronger and yet I was almost lost myself to the currents of those rivers. The bridge there is no more than crumbling ruins now." Boromir swatted away a fly as it bothered his face, considering the map, his mind working away despite the terrible headache he clearly still had.

"You did make it across."

"I very nearly did not. I have another thought besides." Boromir looked to me now, considering me, his question slow as if he was careful about wording it, "Did you come here with the aid of the Elves?"

"Uh... It's likely." I wasn't sure if I was supposed to keep that part secret or not. That had been the 'theory' back when I'd appeared in Rivendel at the start of the War of the Ring, half confirmed by the Lady Galadriel herself, but the honest truth was that even now after crossing from one world to the other multiple times I was still none the wiser as to how I was really doing it. It just happened. It seemed to work. Why question it?

"Then I will lead us to Rivendel." Boromir decided. His finger now ran across the east road. "It should be a safer walk. There we may find the Lord Elrond and the Lady Galadriel, unless the book is the correct story, and-"

"Book?"

"The movie. The book. You, when coming here, had to follow our storyline. Would it not make sense for the same events to take place in this timeline? Honestly, woman, I am hungover and yet I am thinking faster than you." Boromir shook his head. "Did you never read the book?"

"Nope." I admitted. "I kind of … needed a break. The movie was more than enough for me at the time."

"I would have expected you to memorize all the lore on our world after coming here. I have spent my life here and yet in your world, I learnt more about Middle Earth than I did in my own home." Boromir playfully whacked me across the head with the map. "Then our path is clear."

"Rivendel?"

"Aye. Rivendel. We would have to hurry- I would like to ask Thorin Oakenshield one last time. Perhaps if we make it he may change his mind?"

Oh boy.

I suspected Boromir hadn't given up on wanting to join in. Even as he said that I'd noticed his fingers had inched towards his belt where his new sword hung. Old habits and old pride was still beautifully alive in him.

Boromir gazed up into the afternoon sunlight and considered it. "We have an hour to allow my clothing to dry. You should boil us water and we would be off before sunset. We could walk through part of the night- there is no sign of rain tonight."

"That an order?"

"Yes." He nodded, amused, and gave me a little shove. "Now get water- and let me rest. I have still some alcohol to purge first. Then I will go and find us horses."

Horses. _Goodie_.

Once I had the water set out I napped with the packs a little distance into the bush away from the vomit area. Boromir returned just before dark with horses and a considerably lighter coin pouch. Neither of them particularly pretty or fancy- one was a dark brown that bordered on black in the twilight and one was a lighter brown- and I suspected he might have spent too much of our remaining coin on them... but once again. _Bree_. Probably not a lot of choice.

"It was difficult to get one horse. Two was near impossible." He explained, a little guilty as he handed me back the coins, adding, "But asking for two that were healthy enough for our journey- it may be a long one- was even worse. I did my best to barter. Wendy- meet Flower and Thorn."

"Flower and Thorn?"

He nodded, affectionately stroking the dark horse's neck, the dark horse 'Thorn' restlessly pacing on the spot. "I have renamed them. Think you can ride?"

"Sure." I reassured him. After all- I'd learnt at some point. Weren't horses like bikes? Never forgot how to ride one. Hopefully. "All ready to go?"

Boromir nodded. He helped me tie the pack to the back of the horse, his knowledge in this stuff appreciated big time, and I found myself on the back of the big light brown mare. Once Boromir was on his horse we started away.

The sun set not long after our horses and us started the journey along the east road and the warmth the sun brought quickly was drained away into the earth and replaced with a cool night. There was no rain tonight though, just a soft mist that thickened slightly as the darkness took over, and it was a bearable night when compared to the night before.

With the assistance of cloaks, thick warm boots, gloves and the warmth of a horse underneath me it was almost a nice ride alongside Boromir. On a road. Roads made things much easier. All we had to worry about was avoiding puddles, staying on a horse, and listening out for the occasional traveller- Boromir still insisted we conceal ourselves as much as possible.

I was wrong about the 'riding is easy' thing. Within half an hour my butt was killing me and it took that half an hour JUST to remember how to sit and move properly. Boromir seemed to ease into it much faster but even he seemed to get uncomfortable on the saddle after some time. Luckily neither of the horses really seemed to notice or care- he'd picked a couple of nice docile ones.

A little _too_ docile.

Sometimes they tried to stop for a nibble, a drink, or even a nap.

It was late before we stopped. I assumed it was, anyway, as my butt said we'd been going for hours. Boromir hoisted himself off the horse with a groan that gave away how much his butt was hurting as well, and ever the gentleman, totally ignored me as I struggled down from 'Flower'.

"Tie her up to that tree, take her pack off, her saddle, and let her rest a bit." He ordered, too tired to tease, his own horse tied up there already. "We should sleep."

"Yeah." I muttered.

Boromir didn't answer. He'd already slumped down with his pack, cloak wrapped around him, and was asleep by the time I got my own pack down, saddle off, Flower tied securely and was settled on the ground nearby. It took some practice to get the cloak wrapped around me in the same way, the pack beside me, the saddle under my head. But once I fell asleep I stayed asleep. No Dwarves woke us that night, no thieves, nor any rain, only the stars guarding us till dawn.


	4. On the road again

"How far is it?" I groaned.

The two of us collapsed on the ground in the late afternoon, side by side, not even bothering to unpack the horses just yet.

"Not close." Boromir responded, his backside well and truly pointed up, his own face tight with pain.

One more day of riding and this time it _had_ been raining again. Not just gentle ambling walk along the East Road either, oh no, we'd spent half the time in a trot or a ...whatever the fast 'three bump' movement was. I didn't have the brainpower to recall the name of it.

It was at least distracting Boromir. I didn't know a lot about addiction but I suspected that it wouldn't 'stop' after a day. Never the less, he seemed to channel it all into riding, and it probably helped that any booze was now more than a day and a half behind us. He hadn't stopped looking kind of sick, kind of pale, but maybe it was like the 'break a finger and forget the broken leg' thing I'd seen once. Maybe the pain of all this riding was helping distract him.

Still I caught him looking over his shoulder sometimes, back in the direction of Bree, and while I didn't want to ask... I suspected it wasn't just to look for travellers. There wasn't much I could do about it though. Was there?

Now I rolled over slowly, feeling a soft muzzle nudge at me as my horse delicately stepped over to nicker at me, watching as it tried to seek out the lembas bread that Boromir had fed to both horses earlier. Silly man. Fed them our food.

"They want food." I groaned, giving the horse a gentle shove back, and then quickly grabbed for one of the reins. "I feel bad for them. Wearing the bridle all the time."

"They are not wearing the bridle all the time." Boromir responded. He made an effort to sit, cringing, before he hoisted himself heavily onto his feet. "I removed the bit when you fell asleep- they have halters. I put them back also when I woke. You should remember how to care for your horse."

"Yeah, and remember also how to ride. Ow."

A hand was offered to me. Gladly I took it, Boromir hoisting me to my feet, and the two of us carefully unpacked the horses again. He moved across to actually show me what to do this time, some of his old life coming through, and after a few minutes we had two happy and grazing horses again. It looked simple to me but Boromir clearly knew better- he redid some of my knots, adjusted the amount of 'give' my horse had for grazing off the rope between the trees, and for once didn't tease me about it. He'd grown up doing these things and I hadn't.

"They are tired." Boromir commented. He ran a hand affectionatly across 'Thorn' as he inspected him with a gentle rub of palm on his horse, over muscle and across the neck and back, but he didn't seem worried. "Are you well?"

I blinked. Me? "Oh. Yeah. Sore. How about you?"

"I..." Boromir hesitated. He gazed away, a moment, and then shrugged. "I am fine. One day sober."

I wasn't sure what to say. I honestly had no idea. Just … that I felt bad that he'd cracked at all. "Sorry... I..."

"Do not be sorry. I have not given up." Boromir smiled faintly as he leaned against a tree for a moment. He rubbed his forehead and added, "I have my own girl to fight for. Nor do I have temptation here. We'll let the horses have a good rest tonight and go a little easier on them tomorrow. They, like us, are not used to such a life. It will still be some days yet before we reach Rivendel."

"How many?" I followed Boromir to the camp, hoisting the pack down, doubling back to grab the bridle and saddle so the horse didn't accidentally step on either.

"Could be another five or six days." Boromir admitted. "Perhaps two or more. I do not actually know how we reach Rivendel, even with this map, for it has a concealed entrance. We may need to search a little and I doubt the Elves would show us the way- they keep it hidden for a reason."

"Bugger." I muttered. The Dwarves would just stumble upon it. Lucky them. I sighed, even more exhausted by the idea of having to travel like this for a week and then ... just browse around for a Rivendel entrance... and when I went to sit down I felt Boromir grab my arm.

"No rest yet, Wendy, we've got to light a fire and train."

"Aw, _come on_." I moaned. "My butt is so sore."

"We need water for ourselves and the horses, we need to train with sword so that we remember, and then we can rest."

It occurred to me that perhaps he was worse off than I was right now. He couldn't physically be feeling all that crash hot right now and still he was trying to move around, work, and get ready. I groaned. Right. I was being kind of selfish. I sighed. Stood up. I had to try harder too.

"Okay." I agreed, as Boromir started towards the road, stretching my weary arms. "Okay. You get water and I'll start the fire."

The dampness from rain had soaked deep into any twigs or branches. Even with toilet paper I struggled, the wet wood spluttering and dying as the flames in the paper flared and died quickly, blistered fingers struggling a little and after fifteen minutes and a new shower of rain I had to accept it probably wasn't going to happen.

"We aren't getting a fire tonight." I told Boromir as he came back into view, a little dissapointed, as I'd kind of hoped by the time he'd gotten back I'd have … I didn't know, a big fire, maybe a fish or two that I'd speared with an arrow magically in the ten minutes he'd been gone, kind of an absurd expectation but it sounded so good. Fire and fish.

"We won't get one each night." Boromir called back. He had started to untie the picket line, the horses already grazing and ignoring him, and he gestured in the direction I was going. "There is a small stream of water just there. It should be enough for the horses and for us to drink."

"Cool." I smiled at him- and he lightened, the two of us relaxing somewhat even with our sore bodies. "I think there's a good spot to shelter."

"It looks good." Boromir agreed as he leaned up to adjust the tie on a new tree. Boy was I glad he'd grown up with horses. He knew what to do. Once they were settled in an adjusted position he returned, the two of us pulling cloaks over our heads with the horses in view from time to time, huddling together against an old tree with the shelter of the tree mostly blocking rain and wind.

"Come to Middle Earth." I grumbled. "Fall in love, see Elves, hobbits, dwarves, become a hero, and get a blister right up your butt."

"We did not train." Boromir realised. "But I..."

He held up his hands. Blisters on his fingers from the reins. I held mine up too and we compared them, the big white things frustrating us both, clearly gloves only giving some protection.

Boromir gave in as he stared at our hands. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes. Tomorrow."

"Me either. Here. Dinner." I unpacked one of the lembas bread we'd been baked, Boromir taking a chunk off it, and I took a bite. Mmm. Yummy. Dry sweet bread. It actually tasted a little like shortbread, which was nice, but it was still dry and I was craving cheddar cheese on crackers like _crazy_ right now. No other cheese would do. Except maybe brie. I could have also gone for brie right now.

"What's on your mind?" Boromir asked softly, voice cutting through the night, passing a bottle of water my way.

"Cheese."

He laughed at that, his laugh cutting through the dark and scaring a small animal in the bush somewhere, Boromir shaking his head. "Cheese?"

"Yeah. How about you?"

"A hot bath to ease these blisters. And-" There was a hesitation before he admitted, "The drink pulls at me."

"Lucky there's no bar nearby." I said quietly. I meant it. Bloody lucky. "Can I help?"

"We must not stay in an Inn. It is a lot to ask, I know, but I would do better camping."

The request surprised me. I supposed it made sense but I hadn't thought of that. I nodded slowly. "Okay. Agreed. No more inns."

Boromir pulled out the picture of his child, gazing down at her, eyes focused on her. Although it was dark he must have been able to see enough- I could feel his muscles finally starting to relax beside me. Then to my surprise he stood up once again. "You can sleep- I will collect some water while it is raining and the water is cleanest. We can cleanse it with those pills you have, right?"

"Right..."

"Then relax. I'll return." He added, with a teasing smile, "Then tomorrow I will relax and you will work."

"Agreed."

I didn't sleep- I watched him as he fumbled around in the dark. Bottles filled, Boromir returned, and we leaned against each other for warmth and comfort. Reunited in the joys of butt blisters and horse riding.

Of course it only got a tiny bit better over the next four days, the rain settling into a consistent drizzle that made fire lighting a pain, with only the occasional bit of sunshine to warm us and dry us out. I wondered if the Dwarves had started as well- I didn't really know their timeline all that well- and pictured Bilbo's pantry as suddenly being a wonderful break from travelling. He clearly didn't understand what it was to travel and to want all that good food. Holy cow. I'd have wrestled Bombur for one of those cheese wheels right about now.

Boromir and I didn't really talk much. Oh we _talked_, about the weather, warning one another if we saw other travellers, about the horses, we complained and groaned about the physical hardships of riding all bloody day, about the lembas bread not being 'real man's food' or something, and we even started training in the morning before we started to ride. Light stuff. I wasn't sure if it was because I was too exhausted to get into the other stuff or because I wasn't sure how to bring it up. Boromir seemed to struggle with that too. Sometimes there would be a lull in a conversation about food, things would get awkward as if we were both unsure as to how to get into a deeper conversation, and then we'd find an excuse to keep up with the easy conversations.

Since his outburst about his life earlier on that week he hadn't said a thing about it. Not about his daughter, his fight with cancer, or his alcoholic time, nothing. I never knew how to ask about it either. I felt responsible for Boromir and the way his life had turned out because I had decided he shouldn't die. So he'd battled all this stuff and I'd been prancing around my Queensland home on thousands of hectares with an ancient Elf, a gorgeous kid who's biggest problem was that he still refused to use indoor toilets, and the pressure of living with modern day Elves.

Light conversations kept me from thinking too much on that as well. Still... even though we both made a habit of avoiding the 'deep stuff' the tension from the first day was gone. It was almost like old times, when we hadn't been fighting or struggling with feelings, and I might have enjoyed it if I didn't have such a sore but and sore hands. That was peanuts compared to the worry I felt for him though. Always worried about him. He seemed better by the day but...

It was midway through the third day, just as we'd come out from forest into grassy land and dismounted to let the horses get to water. Boromir pointed something out across some distance away across hills covered in grass and stone.

"See that?" He asked, directing my gaze to the highest hill up there, where I could vaguely see stones piled up.

"Yeah."

"That is Weathertop."

"Is that where Frodo got stabbed?"

"Yes." Boromir shook his head in wonder. "What I would not give to see Amon Súl in the full glory of its past. Banners rising, the great Kings coming to discuss peace, and a wonder to behold."

Another memory rose up in my mind. Not of Frodo but of something else. Something that bothered me, although I couldn't quite understand it at first, like there was something about that hill I just wanted to avoid. Stupid white Orc. Or something.

_Oh_.

Oh, bugger. I remembered. Some white Orc waiting there for Thorin.

"Boromir, let's get going." I muttered. My heart rate had risen somewhat.

"Why?"

"Oh come on, mister I studied all of Middle Earth, did you forget what was using that tower in the hobbit movie?" I turned and headed for the horses. _Nope_. Did not want to tangle with them.

Boromir didn't take long to catch on. He grasped my arm, sudden, voice low. "Get on the horse. _No more talking_."

He seemed to switch into his old self automatically, sword out, his movements suddenly careful and silent and I did my best to copy. He led me back to the horses, his attention on the surroundings, completely silent now.

I stayed silent. If there was an Orc pack (or had they been goblins?) around neither of us were able to deal with that. Nor did we want to. I hadn't even restrung my bow yet, an oversight that I suddenly wished I hadn't made, because at least I felt like I had some skill still with one of those. Not 'Elf Boss Level' skill but reasonable skill.

The horses were still alive and near the water we'd found. Good. Thorn, Boromir's big dark brown mare, was nervous. Her ears were half back, her eyes showing a little white, her nostrils thinner and inhaling in quick sharp bursts as her head twisted around. Thorn did tend to be a little edgy in general, I'd noticed that earlier, but she was also the one first to notice others on the road. Silly old 'Flower' was just grazing away, relaxed, half asleep.

I mounted quickly, sore butt forgotten, and Boromir went to mount when something went whistling through the air just inches from his head.

We knew the sound of arrow. Both of us.

Boromir was up in an instant- no quick graceful leap, he was heavy and sore and it was a struggle, but it was faster than he'd mounted in days. Thorn didn't make it easy- she was dancing now, feet restless, just about ready to bolt. That horse was no warhorse. She had _no clue_ what to do. Flower was alert now if only because I was on her.

"Come." Boromir had his sword out, one hand holding the reins tight in an attempt to keep his horse from bolting in the wrong direction, digging his knees into her sides. Another arrow sailed past, an ugly one that thunked into a tree nearby, the clear arrow of some kind of orcish creature. He didn't have to tell me twice.

With a squeeze of my knees we were speeding along behind him and his horse, the hooves flying along the road in their four-bump pace, forcing me to sink deep down into the saddle and hang on. Flower was starting to get into the mood of the situation and follow Thorn, who was almost out of control now, the panic starting to overtake the other mare.

Two arrows in a minute meant that, although bad, they weren't close to us and/or didn't have a clear shot of us. The hills were probably helping. Boromir and I rode hard into the forest again, in the direction we'd been going originally, the trees shielding us and concealing us.

"A... half day... to the bridge..." Boromir called, as I caught up, his face already sweaty, his grip on his sword clearly not good as he tried to balance.

"...kay!" It was all I could get out. I was still mentally cursing myself for not stringing my bloody bow. It hadn't been like we were taking a country stroll.

It was the howls that reminded me that these weren't Orc on foot. Oh bugger. Oh bugger me. Wargs. I hated those things. Last time I'd seen them up close was while we'd been on the way to Helm's Deep.

This was why I didn't WANT more adventure!

"Faster!" Boromir urged, half to me and half to his own horse, all his senses focused on the road as he and Thorn jumped, swerved or ran straight through puddles, most of Boromir's control not enough to totally protect the horse from those holes that might break a leg.

I had control for about what I had to guess was about twenty minutes. It might have been five minutes, it might have been several hours, because the moment we heard riders behind us panic just came and totally floored all of my sense of time and space. Boromir, on the other hand, lost total control of his horse the moment we heard them.

It was dangerous for him- and all I could do was ride behind him, letting his horse encourage mine to go a little faster, my prayers for both of us to ride far enough to outrun those bastards seeming to take on the four beats of the hooves underneath me- like a mantra that I kept repeating over and over.

Several times I glanced behind me- I wanted to see if that big white one was with them- but only once did I actually see them, the big wolf-like creatures with riders, and I had no idea if there were four or eight of them. Scouts? Who knew. I wasn't an expert in warg rider behaviour either.

Maybe it was because I looked behind me, or because my horse was too slow acting to swerve around a particularly nasty looking puddle when Boromir's horse did, but that was when all hell broke loose. I was looking behind, the warg now just a few metres back in the forest, and then everything tipped sideways as the mare tried to swerve around a puddle and failed. There was a horrible snap as she went over, this terrible shriek of pain from the mare, and then I was underneath.

No wonderful blanking out, no 'fade to black', I wasn't so lucky.

I felt _all of it_. Heavy horse rolling on me, pack rolling on me, muddy puddle that had was deep, and then ground that was still fairly hard once you got to the bottom of the wet dirt, and I _did. _All of that peanuts compared to the pain. Holy cow … _the pain_. Arms and legs being twisted in all kinds of ways that should never have been twisted. Head smacking into the ground, horse and mud sandwiching it there for what felt like hours, and the terrible sound the poor horse was making when I finally came out the other side.

I had a wrist tangled in the reins, tugging me along as the poor horse rolled, and when the two of us came to a stop, I just lay there stunned and completely broken near her back. I was afraid to look, afraid of broken arms, legs, nose, who knew what else, and the horse beside me kept trying to stand. We were so tangled up in each other, my cloak half under her, wrist tangled in a rein somehow, or perhaps it was that leg she didn't seem to have control over, but she couldn't stand and neither could I.

Boromir was long gone.

"Fuck." I swore, the word sending a wave of pain throughout my ribcage, mentally continuing the tyrade with an additional, _'Fuck, fuck, fuck.'_ Bad words. Was trying to not use them but right now? Fuck that. No kid around to corrupt with bad words.

The wargs or their riders did not improve my mood. I could see them circling around- all except for three who continued on after Boromir- with the big beasts snarling at one another as they advanced on me.

Pain be damned.

I did try and move now, doing my bloody best, but everything in my body just refused to let this happen. The cloak had somehow tangled up as well, part of it underneath the struggling horse, the hood wrapped around my neck and my hair askew.

"Human _woman_."

There was a grin from one of them. Ugly creatures. The grin, the look in their faces as they dismounted and advanced on me with their swords drawn, it brought on a whole other fear that I had felt before in this place. It was that age old fear all women got, when they sensed deep down what might happen, that surge of adrenaline that made them fight or run for their lives and their bodies.

This had been what had happened to Lord Elrond's wife.

I couldn't run. I was stuck and the poor horse, still struggling to stand, had me more or less trapped where I was. I tried to tug the sword out from where it had wedged under me, struggling, my breath shallow and fast as they grasped wrists, ankles, hoisting me forward. One grabbed the sword and tossed it aside.

"Oh hell no..." I wasn't sure if I said that out loud or not, I was breathing too hard from the fear of this and the pain of the fall to really be able to tell, but I was sure that I had to fight. Teeth, feet, hands, _spit_, whatever I had. It was an easy thing to want to do but the reality was so hard, my muscles unable to follow half the orders I was trying to send to them, and I felt like the efforts to fight back were almost pointless.

"Should we take her back up?"

"No."

"But-"

"You think we'll get any if we take her up?"

"Yeah. Take their bodies after. Tell them she died when she fell. They can still have their fun."

I ignored their arguing- honestly my brain hurt too much to really notice or care which or who was talking- and continued to struggle as they yanked at me, no care for any injuries I may have had (and I was too afraid to look for those myself in case they made me feel I couldn't fight), knife cutting the cloak off and dragging me onto my back on the road. The horse let out a terrible scream, then it went very silent, one of the orc advancing on me from behind with a knife covered in blood.

There wasn't much I could do. I struggled, of course I did, fighting with everything I could move (which as it turned out wasn't that much) as they used that same knife to split the clothing off me, the rain washing mud and the blood of the horse right down onto my skin. I might have been screaming, swearing at them, or yelling, but my brain didn't seem to connect those sounds to my mind at the moment. One of them knelt on top of me, crouching, trying to cut away fabric still in his way even as he tried to violate me.

It was almost funny, in my panicked state of mind, when his head went sailing sideways. Wargs- who had waited around growling in a circle- twisted in a direction, the Orcs standing with their swords raised, only to get _trampled_.

Elves.

I knew it without seeing them clearly- my vision had gone blurred from water, and I suspected it was tears- those golden swords, bows, the golden hair were so familiar to me that I felt a hysteria rise up as, just for a moment, I wondered if it was Legolas. It might have been impossible but right then, filthy with blood and mud, it was the only face I _really_ wanted to see.

It was a completely different face that came for me. I'd never seen that face like this, in armour, leaping off a horse with the incredible grace of her kin, golden hair bound back in a braid, nor had I ever seen her with so much fury or anger in her face before. Lady Galadriel.

She was there beside me in an instant, some beautiful cloak made of shimmering white cloth covering my filthy body, and as a warg and his rider charged for her, Lady Galadriel's sword cut both, without so much as a glance backwards, her beautiful blue eyes locked in mine. Calm washed throughout me, a sense of being 'safe', and as she gazed down to me I could see out of the corner of my eye a different warg.

It was charging straight for her. I opened my mouth to warn her.

I didn't need to. There he was- her _own_ love, Lord Celeborn with the same swift attack, his appearance so quick and attack so perfect that there was no way the charging beast or the rider could have avoided it. The pack of the warg and orc didn't stand a chance. Within moments they were gone, stains on the road, and the Elves had surrounded Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn in a protective circle.

She didn't speak for a moment, her hand brushing across my face, reading me. Then she stood and called an order in Elvish. I wasn't in the right frame of mind to understand the words- but I suspected it was to do with Boromir when several of the Elven riders took off in the direction we'd been going.

Shit. I hoped he was okay. He wouldn't usually leave me in this situation.

"I-"

"Sh." Lady Galadriel's face softened only now, as she turned towards me, as if she was seeing an old friend. This had to be the first time we'd met in her life. Right? It was so strange though, as she knelt down to kneel beside me, it felt as if it was the same Elven lady who I had met before. As if she was exactly the same person no matter what time I had entered. Impossible- that had to just be the way she was- but it felt that way. "The mud has protected you from worse injuries. But stay silent for now, Wenduin, knowing all is well. Sleep."

She used my name. It made me shudder, relief flooding me, because even if she WAS a younger version... she still seemed to know what she needed to know. I couldn't fight the word 'Sleep' or the relief that came from being recognised. Instead I did what I was told.

I slept.

Moments later, or at least it seemed that way, I opened my eyes to find that I was lying in a soft bed. I didn't need to look outside to know. Rivendel. I wasn't that surprised. For a few precious moments I lay there in soft clean sheets, laying in warm sunlight that crossed across part of my arm, and breathed out slowly. Flowers. Food. The sound of laughter and singing in the trees. The sense of pure calm this place brought. I could have easily fallen asleep again.

Calm did not last. Not when I realised what, or who, it was that had woken me. I could hear a voice nearby- a raised voice, angry, or perhaps frustrated, echoing from some place nearby.

"When will you let me see her?"

Oh. Boromir. I probably hadn't 'just woken up'. If we were in Rivendel then I must have slept for a long time. How many days had we had left before we reached Rivendel? Why had Lady Galadriel run into us? (Or to be specific- straight into a warg pack.) Had I slept the whole way? Questions started to roll around my head and the urge to go back to sleep faded.

"She can sleep with me there!" Boromir's voice grew again in volume. Angry. He was definitely angry.

"Not with your voice raised." Lord Elrond's voice drifted up. "I would not have a patient awoken before she is ready. Now quiet, or I will quieten you!"

"Oh, bloody hell." I groaned softly, rolling onto one side, strangely free of any kind of pain. I felt pretty amazing actually. Would have been nice to have a bit more of a sleep though. "Can't that man let someone sleep in?"

Moments later Boromir appeared, Lord Elrond not far behind, probably only let up because someone down there had heard me complain. Boromir knelt on the bed, his face pale, grasping for me. "Are you feeling well?"

"I'm starting to get a headache." I teased, though I ahd to admit it might not be a joke if he didn't calm down, and tried to sit up. Oh right. Wargs. Riders. Nearly got ….well, that didn't happen. Boromir seemed okay- I checked him over, eyes going up and down, but all that I found was the obvious panic and the new guilt flooding his face. "If you're feeling bad about … whatever happened... then don't. Okay?"

"I could not get the horse to slow, stop or turn. I'm sorry." Boromir's hands clenched. "I was useless."

"You're doing the pity party thing again, Boromir, and let's face it- when a horse bolts it bolts. Could have been the other way around."

Lord Elrond moved forward as I sat up, a gentle smile on his face, once again giving me the impression that he too 'remembered me'. Impossible. He was the younger version. He held out his arms as he welcomed me. "Welcome to the House of Rivendel, Wenduin."

Basically the same line he'd given Frodo. Maybe he didn't know what else to say. I smiled as well, giving Boromir a little shove back, and then checked my body.

No broken bones. Some spectacular bruising, from the looks of things, but no pain.

"It was a lucky fall. You may find yourself in a little pain as our medicine wears off-" That explained the lack of pain, "-but no other injuries or violations will harm you."

"Lucky." I muttered. I got a little tense, the memory coming straight to the forefront of my mind, and suddenly felt the warm emotions slip away.

I knew what he meant by 'violations'. Getting gang-raped by those orcs would have … well, I didn't know. Even now the memory of it made me feel sick to my stomach and a little shivery. It had been way too close and I suspected I could now add THAT memory onto my list of memories becoming nightmares.

Lord Elrond's smile faded as well. Maybe he could tell what had caused me to tense up. "It was indeed- I did not know Lady Galadriel would be coming this way."

I did. It shocked me to realise this, but I recalled that movie, and that she HAD been in Rivendel. Had we done that? Had we made her come here? Apparently she wasn't _supposed_ to be- I remembered hearing someone complain at the cinema very loudly about how she was _supposed_ to be in Lothlorien or something. I'd have to ask later.

"Is it safe to hug her?" Boromir asked Lord Elrond, still hanging back somewhat, and when Lord Elrond responded with a nod and a warning to be careful, Boromir slid across the bed to gather me up in a big gentle bear hug. "I was out of my mind with worry, woman."

"We didn't do so good with that adventure, did we?" I tried to joke. "Bloody hell."

"Soon as you are out of that bed, we will train, and I will not take blisters or bruises as an excuse." Boromir promised. He sighed against me, his body relaxing somewhat, and added, "If you can joke... then it is not so bad."

It could have been worse. But nope. It wasn't so bad. We made it to Rivendel.

"I'll leave the two of you. Be gentle- you will be sore for several days yet." Lord Elrond warned us both.

We watched him leave, Boromir sliding across to lay on the bed beside me, a shadow crossing his face as he relaxed. There were shadows under his eyes again, skin even paler than it had been when I'd last seem him, and he seemed exhausted to me.

"How long has it been since you slept?" I heard my own voice get gentle.

"I tried. I just heard you screaming." Boromir sighed. "Rode two days with the Elves and you did not wake once. Then two more days here- and still you did not wake, or so they told me, and I _had_ to wait."

"Screaming?" So I had been screaming. I sighed and relaxed back down as well. "Well, it's okay. You can sleep now."

"Aye- I will." Boromir agreed. He opened one eye, checking me, adding, "If you do not mind me sleeping beside you."

"It's fine." I had no issues with sleeping. He didn't seem interested in anything else. "So... did they kill that white orc?" That might have been a plot change everyone would have been happy with. Apparently HE wasn't in the book either.

Boromir shook his head as he shifted himself into a better position. "We came straight here. I did not see them go back and search for any others."

Supposed that wasn't really a surprise. I shut my eyes- though I still felt tense, a little upset, now recalling that moment when I thought it had been Legolas.

God. I missed him. I missed him and my kid so much. I hadn't realised, hadn't wanted to think about it, but at that moment... I missed them both. Even the parts of being a mum that weren't so fun. What I wouldn't give for Cele to come in right now, my frying pan totally ruined, offering me 'breakfast' in the form of a half cooked pancake seasoned with eggshells.

"I wanted it to be my Elf." I admitted, quietly, and felt the bed shift as Boromir turned to face me. It wasn't fair to tell him this- but I needed to tell someone.

"As did I."

I was surprised by this and opened my eyes to see Boromir wasn't kidding at all. He shifted, a little embarrassed, admitting, "I miss him as well. He was a good friend. But your son... he has been of great comfort to me."

So he had stayed with Boromir. I wasn't sure about that.

I pictured the grown half-elf, considered an ancient, the man that my little boy would one day become. It was another long story, right there alongside the 'Legolas waited' story, and still a story I had trouble wrapping my mind around. I'd met him while still pregnant … _with him_... and it had been a shock. To put it lightly. I hadn't given birth to my baby and he came swanning into my life, carefree and confidant, ancient with wisdom and bringing thousands of years worth of gifts he'd collected for me as he watched Earth change.

A bit overwhelming.

I hadn't seen him in the flesh for _years_- he seemed to know that I was having trouble dealing with the reality. It was hard to connect that big hearted half-elf to my five year old boy. Older Cele wrote to me, I wrote back, and we exchanged pokes on facebook. For now that was enough. He visited several times a year with tales of new adventures, new friends, but he rarely talked about Boromir.

"So he has seen you? Good."

"Did he not say? He comes every week. I would willingly say I owe him my life at times, when it was darkest, for he has always come when I needed a friend." Boromir smiled at that as he shut his eyes. "No man could ask for a better friend. I am glad for him."

"Good." I echoed. Body was relaxing once again. "Good boy. I'll have to give him a sticker."

I felt the bed tremble as he laughed, a hand grasping mine, Boromir sliding a little closer. "I have not drunk."

"How many days now?"

"Seven. A full week." His voice was so heavy with sleep now. "Shh. I am weary with worry. Let me sleep."

"Good for you." I turned to watch him, the tension gone from his face as he relaxed, his breathing slowing. It wasn't long before he was fast asleep.

Affection rose at the sight. It suddenly occurred to me that Boromir could also have died then, if his horse had stumbled, if it had listened to his urges to turn around, or if it had been caught. They wouldn't have hesitated to cut his head off the moment he tried to protect me and I suspected that Boromir was enough out of training to be an easy target for that.

The attack had been far too close. He was right. We had to get better at this and we had to do it tomorrow. I swore- I'd make sure Boromir survived this journey. I'd get him home. He deserved that much.


	5. In paradise

While Boromir slept, and while I was still pain free, I located my pack and got to work. The shock of the attack made it impossible to sleep now that I was awake- all I wanted to do was ...well, get ready.

So I did. I got the bow after a walk that was slow and unsteady, crawled back into bed with it and the string, and sat beside Boromir as he snored away. He was too exhausted to notice or care if I tapped him with the bow, thankfully, because I did that a few times by accident.

The bow had a beautiful simplicity. While it had been carved for me by Legolas, dumped in my hands with the pack moments before I was in Bree, it didn't have the usual decorative Elvish flair to it. The dark wood had the natural curve in the middle and it took me a few moments to remember that the bow Legolas had once used in the War of the Ring had been very similar. Not exactly the same but they both seemed to follow the same beautiful simple design.

An experienced archer might have looked at it and guessed the value of it as a weapon- it was lightweight, strong, and perfectly suited to my draw length. On closer inspection I did find a design on the inside of the bow's curve- very shallow, with just a faint stain to lighten them against the darker wood, leaves and hidden amongst the design were inscriptions in Elvish that I couldn't read.

I sighed, touching them, and shut my eyes as I pictured him sitting at home in his little 'tree house' shed carving this for me. When he created things from wood, he spoke to the wood, and it always seemed to me as if he was weaving some kind of spell. It was memorising to watch. It made me feel almost as if I was at home with him. He'd be sitting up in the trees on the platform up there- old habits apparently died hard- and I would be trying to entertain our boy in the forest nearby.

"I miss you." I said quietly, opening my eyes to gaze down at the bow, fingers stroking it with gentle strokes. Boromir snorted beside me, a snore that made him twist over, and I brought the bow to my nose to breathe in the smell of it. It was relaxing.

From there it was arrows that needed to be made. This was not something I could just whip up- I needed wood and I couldn't just break off branches from the trees in Rivendel. The Elves wouldn't like that all that much.

So I left that, bow carefully lowered to the side of the bed, and gazed out of the open windows into Rivendel itself. So peaceful. Nothing much seemed to happen here.

Of course something did happen as soon as I thought that.

Lady Galadriel walked past.

She paused, her head turning slightly in my direction, and then she continued onwards slowly. I didn't know why I felt like I was supposed to follow her. I just sensed it. I climbed up slowly and wandered out after her- slowly, as my body found the stairs a lot harder than walking across a flat floor. The slow effort was worth it when I found her at the bottom. I was right.

Lady Galadriel stood there in a little garden near the building we slept in, turned in my direction, radient in the white gown and silver metalwork on her forehead, closer to the great Elven Lady I remembered. She waited for me before she spoke. "Your energy has returned."

"Thanks to you." I responded. When she gestured to a small stone bench I sat down, relieved, amazed at how such a tiny walk down stairs could just physically bugger any ability to stand. "It's not quite there yet."

"I foresaw the need to come."

"Lucky."

"There was no luck." Lady Galadriel responded. She reached out for a flower, smiling into it, her fingers caressing the petals with affection. "I would not allow such a thing to happen to any woman."

That reminded me of the connection she shared with Lord Elrond- that his wife, who had been hurt badly by Orc, had been her own daughter.

Lady Galadriel looked down to me. "You are familiar with me."

"I-" How much should I say? The whole truth? Probably not. I wondered how much of my brain she'd already dug into- if she knew about everything I had seen. "I am, yes, we met. Or will meet."

"I remember some- but I have prevented myself from seeing much of it."

It was a cryptic statement. I wasn't sure how to answer it. "Uh. Okay. I don't know … what I can tell you."

"I know what I need to know at this point." Lady Galadrel responded gently. She came to sit beside me, her eyes distant still, as if she was still half in that other place that only Elves seemed to be able to reach.

I felt her hand grasp for mine, her fingers threading through mine, and at once the warmth of her heart, the strength of it, it washed into me. It was incredible. I felt her ancient being, the strangeness of her even to her own kin, but also that in equal balance to Lady Galadriel's strength, experience and understanding she was also as vulnerable and as gentle as a child. The connection that she felt with every single living being- not just Elves, not just with nature, but everything.

It wasn't just her. We had it too. For a moment, for an awe-inspiring moment, I saw that all beings had it. Elves had made the choice but everyone... everyone was connected. Something evil touched all beings- and Lady Galadriel had seen that something terrible had arisen. Something had started to touch everyone.

Sau-

Then her hand left mine and I felt my entire body tremble from head to toe, eyes damp all of a sudden, filled with this gift she had given me. The name had been cut off mid-name in my mind, and she stood, but there was no anger towards me.

"Yes." She agreed quietly. "I think so as well."

Woops. I told her too much. "Sorry..."

"Let it go now." Lady Galadriel responded.

And like that- it was gone from my mind, all of it, all of the things I'd felt. Lady Galadriel was once again alone in that Elfy place, her eyes still half somewhere else, and even as she smiled down at me I was sure that she wasn't entirally with me.

"Soon Gandalf will arrive." Lady Galadriel spoke, turning slowly in the direction of the path, and there Lord Elrond stood.

"Are you certain?"

"He will need you- there are now Orc coming into your lands." Lady Galadriel nodded. Then, with a gentle smile towards me again, she turned and vanished down the path.

Lord Elrond watched her go only a moment before he turned to me. Much more matter of fact, clearly in the moment with me, he informed me, "I do not know your reasonings... but if you intend on joing them, Wenduin, you must grow strong. You are our guests here- we will aid you."

"I'm not sure I know the reasoning either." I muttered. Because Boromir wanted to. Because... I didn't know. We were here.

"Rarely do we know the lesson before it is taught." Lord Elrond gazed upwards towards the clouds. "All we can do is prepare for what we do know."

"I guess I do know we need to get stronger." I knew a little more than most. I knew how it'd go, the dangers that'd come, and … that had to count for something. Right?

"Then you will. Today though, you should return and rest, allow our healing to seep into cracked bone and bruised body."

Cracked bone? Crap. _That_ might explain why I had issues walking.

Lord Elrond offered his arm and I took it. It was kind of weird to be escorted back inside by him. Once inside he lowered me down onto the bed, made me drink something with floating bits of herbs in it, and before he was even out of the room I was out of it again.

God did I feel the injuries when I woke. It was totally disorientating to wake and find things different- Boromir wasn't there, the sun was somewhere else, my pack and bow moved, and the pain in my body was just the icing on the cake.

"Ow." I groaned, shut my eyes, and hoped when I woke them the pain would be all medicated away. Not a chance. I came face to face with an unknown Elven woman, who didn't stick around any longer than it took her to leave a tray off food, but other than that I was alone now.

Sort of.

It occurred to me that I was being _watched_. I opened one eye to stare around, searching, finding nothing in the room or in the view beyond to hint as to who or what it was- but I could feel it. I also suspected who it was.

Elves. They were beautiful, wise, beyond anything any human could be for generations… but they were predictable silly buggers when it came to being curious about something. With their near perfect eyesight they could have been concealed across the river well out of my line of sight still able to peek in at me.

They could probably hear me as well.

"You know-" I said softly, "-I can kind of tell I'm being watched right now."

It was a bit of a test. A silly one- if I was wrong then I'd look and sound like a bit of a fool myself. I was right on the mark though- as soon as I spoke I heard distant titters and laughter, echoing across the valley, and several hundred metres away in the forest there were flashes of golden hair and silky clothing catching the sunlight as Elves leapt down or peered openly at me through the branches.

I supposed it was rare for humans to come here.

"Wait till you see the hobbit." I told them as I eased myself. It didn't bother me all that much to be stared at- they reminded me of children. Wise, beautiful, adult humanoids who had never given up their childish curiosity of the world. Even now, as I spoke, I heard them singing at me, the words echoing across the valley, the Elvish beautiful... but I suspected it was also a teasing song- because there was laughter as they sung it, open laughter, and I shook my head as I raised my eyes to the ceiling. Cele did the _same thing_. He'd probably be like that for the rest of his life.

"As bad as my boy." I muttered. "Or as good. Depending."

"They're making fun of you."

A voice to my left startled me. A small boy stood there, his eyes staring at me as openly as the Elves, but very clearly a human boy. A very familiar little face- all stubborn, open stare, brown hair messed up.

Oh. It was _Aragorn_. Who else would be … who else? Holy cow. I was so stunned, so awe-struck by this, that I must have looked like an idiot as my jaw opened and closed several times.

"They said you hit your head." He came in now, peering at me, as he came a few feet closer. "Can't you talk? I heard you talk."

"I can talk. Sorry." I tried to shake the shock from my head. Aragorn. Holy cow. Was he supposed to be in Rivendel? Where else COULD he be at ten years old? It wasn't like Lord Elrond was going to throw him on the road and say 'Sorry, kid, go on an adventure.' Or something a little more Elfy. "I'm … I'm Wenduin."

This was mad. I was introducing myself to Aragorn and he'd remember. He would remember this. Had he already known who I was, that entire time we'd travelled in the War of the Ring, or was this new?

"I am Estel."

That wasn't the name I was expecting. I was expecting Aragorn, perhaps, or Strider, and for a moment I doubted whether he really was who I thought he was or not. The boy was so alike to the Aragorn I'd once known- the hair, the grey eyes, the expressions on his face as he evaluated me- it was too close to be anyone else.

And holy cow. Ten year old Aragorn. Gangly, long legs and arms, not quite physically over the strangeness some boys got before they finished growing into muscle and height. He was clearly fit, clearly healthy, and already had a sword on his belt as most boys his age probably did in Middle Earth.

"Why do you stare?"

"Sorry. I'm surprised to see a human boy here." I admitted.

"Well- it doesn't matter what I am." His chin rose at that. "I was allowed to stay. We both have Elven names- but you're a stranger here."

"There's many Elves to offer names." I responded. I tried to smile, tried to ease the tension, suspecting I had probably offended him.

"I know." Estel took one more step closer. He was as curious as the Elves were- only he wanted to come close. "They said you were attacked by Orc on wargs and your horse fell. You seem okay."

"I'm a bit sore but maybe the muddy road made it safer." I shrugged. "I don't think my poor horse knew how to run on roads safely... poor thing."

"Maybe you should have ridden her better." He offered. Then he hesitated, shrugging, adding, "But some horses are not very good at that. They like to walk behind wagons- not race. I rode one that threw me off because I wanted to go faster than a walk."

"Ow."

"The Elves laughed at me for days after that." There it was- the first crack of a smile there- and Estel seemed to relax a little. "Your friend is amusing them now- he is trying to train. They have forgotten you for the moment."

I hadn't heard the Elves move on. But now that he mentioned it- they did seem further away now.

"They like to laugh, don't they? Poor Boromir."

"They laugh at everything. Do not take offence." Estel swatted a butterfly away, gentle, adding, "Mother wanted me to make sure you were comfortable- sometimes they forget that we're not as quick to heal as they are. Lord Elrond said I could come- and to ask you to come to a feast tonight."

"I'll come... and I think I'm okay." I shifted my body at that, checking, finding that some things seemed able to move. "Yeah. It's just a bit sore. Your mother lives here?"

"She's here somewhere. I think she had to take care of her garden." Estel gestured towards the end of the valley. "It feeds us so they don't have to. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure..."

"Where do you come from?" He turned now, so wise faced for a boy of ten or eleven, peering at me. "You speak different and your things are different." Estel's eyes went to my pack. He wandered over to peer at it, touching it with a bare toe, adding, "It's made different."

"Really far away from here." What else could I say? "It would take a very long time to get there."

"How long?"

"Years."

Estel seemed satisfied with that answer. He took a seat on the chair and continued, "Why did you come here?"

"I actually don't know." I admitted. "I just came here."

"I wonder sometimes about what's outside the borders. Lord Elrond tells me I can go when he deems me a man." Estel's eyes went outside, to the valley beyond, tracing the flight of a bird as it soared past. "Mother talks about her home sometimes- her parents, and one day I'll go see it."

There was a commotion outside, suddenly, and I rose out of bed to join Estel at the balcony. Horses were gathering in the clearing below, Lord Elrond clear alongst them, Elves with great swords and spears gathering as he called orders.

"What are they doing?"

"Orcs are seen on the borders. Lord Elrond himself will hunt them down." Estel explained, clearly understanding Lord Elrond's Elvish, adding, "Didn't you hear Lady Galadriel tell him that? He had scouts seek them out- and now he goes to kill them."

"Oh, I did, but I … I guess I didn't know if he'd actually go." Woops. I had forgotten- and I realised not only did I need to sit down and get my weapons ready, I also had to sit down and try and recall how the movie went.

I watched as Lord Elrond and his horse turned, so graceful, the pair of them charging out the gates with a long blow of a horn. They were on the hunt. So that meant the Dwarves could be here any day now.

"I guess I better get ready." I said quietly. Boromir was going to try again.

"For what?"

"Well, for adventure." I responded as I looked down at Estel. I smiled at him. He was adorable.

"Do you want help to get ready? I can make arr-"

"Estel!"

A call came from outside, a woman, and we both turned to see a woman striding down the path far below. Estel jumped. "Oh, it's mother. I've got to go- I said I'd help her with the cow. If you want to make arrows just ask the smiths- they have all kinds of wood!"

To my amazement he climbed over the balcony and more or less jumped down the tree, swinging on it as he jumped down the six or so metres, the woman freezing below with obvious shock as she watched her son do something incredibly dangerous. She must have been so used to it that she gavev him a look, before glancing up to me, waving with one hand. Aragorn's mother. She couldn't be much older than I was.

"Forgive him for any intrusions..." She called, grasping Estel around the shoulders, as she squeezed him close in a quick hug and hair ruffle.

"I didn't mind. It's okay." I called back. "He's a good boy."

She smiled at that, gazing down at her boy a moment, before the two of them continued out of sight up the path into the buildings.

"He's going to be an incredible man..." I said quietly as I watched them vanish. Seriously. I still couldn't believe I'd met the child version of the man I was so close to. Next time I saw him, when I had to take Cele to Minas Tirith for his Middle Earth time, I'd ask him if he remembered this.

"He may not."

The voice surprised me. Lady Galadriel- she was just behind me, gazing down to them as well, affection there. "You have seen one of his paths- I have seen them all. This time he may not make the same choices."

That broguht down my mood and, with my mood lower, I was reminded of my aches and pains. I leaned against the chair nearby as Lady Galadriel examined me.

"Those memories you have- it may not happen for us in the same way. I would be cautious in sharing what you know- for it may not only change what should happen- It may be the reason for it not happening at all."

"I wasn't sure what to say..." I admitted. About any of it.

"Those of us who have seen it- we never are." Lady Galadriel held something out. It was the jewellery I'd concealed in the clothing that had been cut away. The leaf I'd been given and the rings- the one from her, and the one from Legolas. "In years to come- you will return, new, and things may not happen the same way for you. Or they may happen exactly the same way. It is not for you, now, to decide- but for the you that will come. For the Legolas that will meet her."

"You know about that?" I went to take the rings and already knew the answer to that. It was Lady Galadriel. Silly question. She didn't even answer that, just gently closed my fingers around the jewellery, and held my hands in hers.

"I have told your friend the same thing."

"Good." I wasn't sure how he'd go... not when that ring was around, tempting him, calling to him... "How do I... not act as if I know what's going to happen?"

"See where you stand now- Look at where you are."

I did. I looked, at the tiled floor of the room I had for a room, the great carvings of women and trees over the bed, the slightly rumpled bed linen- I really had to be a good guest and make that bed if I wasn't going to be in it- as well as the gauzy curtains that fluttered in the wind. The pack that needed to be repacked properly- it was half pouring out of itself. The bow I had gotten ready but still required arrows. And outside- the smell of food somewhere, the flowers, these purfumes that were so normal here that I had totally forgotten to pay attention to them at all. Somewhere nearby I could hear birds singing- and in answer, Elves whistling back. How I knew that, I didn't know, just that I knew it... they were talking to the birds and the birds were answering.

"Your body, how does it feel?" Her attention went to the birds as well.

My feet hurt. One leg was fine- it supported most of my weight- but the other hurt every time I tried to move my foot, the pain right under the heel and going up the ankle. One of my wrists was stiff with pain as well and wriggling fingers provoked that pain. There was a pain up one side of my neck as well- it was stiffer than sore- but it was bothersome. Breathing seemed to upset something in my chest.

Also. I needed to pee.

"I guess-"

"Do not speak it. You know of what may happen in two days, in five, in thirty but-" Lady Galadriel returned her gaze to me now, only now looking away from the birds, "-does that remind you of what you need this moment?"

I suddenly got what she was trying to tell me. "So I need to think about right now? Not … then?"

"Is then more important than now?"

"No." It wasn't- not really. Concentrating on then would just make me wet myself if I didn't decide to pay attention to everything right now. It might have also been why I'd forgotten to get the bow ready, the arrows, or even go ahead with Boromir's idea of training. Honestly... I had been so focused on GETTING to Rivendel that I hadn't thought about what I needed on the road. "I think I understand."

That made her smile again. She released my hands and turned, slow, adding as she moved off, "You do understand."

The rest of the day was spent on my own. Food was brought to me, little trays of fruits, vegetables, fresh things that were almost offered with wine as well as water, and this did worry me a little – Wherever Boromir was he was probably getting the same kind of offerings. He didn't show up either. That also worried me. My water always seemed to come with some kind of herbal paste, or a little bottle of something that seemed to be medicine, and I took it without much issue.

In fact I only saw him late that day when we saw one another again, the sun low on the edge of the ridge of the cliff, a golden glow falling through the clouds and onto the buildings and gardens.

I had been helped into a fairly comfortable dress- comfortable in that it had short sleeves and the warm sunlight made it better than anything else I had worn lately- and on my insisting, into pants as well. I liked them. They made me feel... comfortable. From there I was escorted through the gardens, helped up staircases, and found myself standing on a large balcony aglow with sunlight and candles alike.

Boromir turned to look at me from where he stood in the shade of a nearby tree. Once again he looked tired, his face drawn, the grey around his temples somehow pronounced in his obvious exhaustion. He seemed okay though. Not drunk. I sighed quietly at that... perhaps they wouldn't offer a person training any kind of alcohol. That would be the logical thing to do- a drunken person with a sword was no fun for anyone.

"Have you been training all day?" I asked as I stepped across to join him in the shade.

"Aye- no rest till it grows dark." He nodded and his eyes went past me a moment, to where an Elven woman carried a jug, but then Boromir blinked several times and looked back to me. Had his nostrils flared? "Have you rested all day?"

"Yeah. I'll train tomorrow."

"When you can walk up stairs- _then_ you train." Boromir placed a hand on my shoulder. "Till then- rest. It is a peaceful place."

"It is."

Just thinking about it made me want to go back to sleep again. Something about the herbs they gave me- they made me very sleepy. Very relaxed.

"My apologies-" An Elf appeared, bowing, as he bent down. "Lord Elrond wished to join you but he cannot tonight."

"Is he still on the hunt?"

"He is." The Elf confirmed. "But please- sit, and enjoy yourselves. The Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn will join you."

"Really?" Boromir seemed kind of surprised.

"Why not? We all have to eat." I was offered a chair and took it, sliding into it with some relief as my weight got off the good leg, arms slumping down onto the armrests.

"Saruman the White will not be joining you- he wishes to rest." The Elf continued.

That got our attention. Both of us. Saruman was here too. Boromir and I exchanged glances at that. Okay. That... I had forgotten about. So had he apparently. I tried to relax, sitting back, and as the two old wise Elves came to join us, their calm energy came along with them.

There wasn't much talking during the 'feast'. There didn't need to be- there was food and music. I noticed that the Elves had served us meats, cheese, even breads stuffed with olives, herbs and garlic and while there wasn't much it wasn't absent. The movie, I remembered, only showed the most basic salad-worthy leaves and greens. Big relief to find out that it was all here.

Boromir seemed happy too, soft crusty still warm bread in one hand, butter on knife in the other and he was midway through spreading himself a thick piece of the fresh bread when the jugs of wine appeared.

We both saw it at the same time. Wine. Being poured for each of us, as well as for Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, a deep ruby liquid that caught the light of the sun as it was tipped out of a silver jug.

Boromir froze, a gesture unnoticed as he was quick to cover it up, but he seemed to be drawn to it. I could see his hand had frozen on the table, fingers trembling, his nostrils flaring as if he could smell it. They were such good hosts. Elven wine. Then I was also poured a glass. His eyes went to my glass as well and I saw his tongue dart out to wet his lips, his breathing a little faster, the tremble going down to his hand.

One drink of that stuff and I knew Boromir wouldn't be able to stop. Elvish wine was potent... but maybe even the most watered down crap might have ruined it again.

I also suspected drinking it in front of him wasn't going to help him. He was reaching for it just as I grabbed the goblet and with a quick fling tossed all over it over the balcony and onto the garden below. Then I did it again. Boromir's eyes followed it until it was out of his sight completely.

It was probably seriously offensive. Didn't care. Boromir's obvious relief made it totally worth it. He exhaled slowly, shoulders slumping, eyes shut a moment as his hand reached under the table for the pocket that held that photo he kept seeking when he was struggling.

"Sorry, I don't like being rude but we can't drink any alcohol now. Water only, please." I said matter-of-fact. "Sorry. It is probably beautiful but..."

Lord Celeborn was the one to speak up. He raised his hand, voice even as he spoke first in Elvish and then in common to the Elven woman, who was still standing there in slight shock. "As you request. You are the guests."

"We need no wine." Lady Galadriel agreed. Her eyes were now on Boromir though- her attention only diverted for a few seconds but even when she gazed away I suspected he was still in the forefront of her mind. Couldn't explain it.

Maybe it was how uncomfortable he was now.

All the wine was taken away- and within moments water had appeared. Lovely clear water. If anyone minded that they weren't having alcohol tonight there was no obvious sign of it. I supposed Elves loved water as much as anything else.

I felt Boromir's hand grasp mine under the table, his hand squeezing mine tight as he took the water with the other hand and drank deeply.

"Got your back, buddy." I said softly to him.

"And I have yours." Once again he squeezed my hand before letting go. He was still uncomfortable.

Things did gradually get back to relaxed, though it took a while longer, and Boromir was quick to excuse himself as soon as the food stopped coming. I didn't follow- I was sleepy, a bit full in the tummy, and the warm night was kind of peaceful with the occasional shower of light rain.

No one really spoke- but somehow that was all right. There was a singer there, his voice light and beautiful, singing in Elvish but the song going for a long time in measured balance- a song that was also a story. I only understood fragments, sometimes he would pronounce things differently, sometimes he would say things too fast for me to catch, but I could tell it was a love story. An adventure as well from the sounds of things.

Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn sat there with open enjoyment, their hands grasped lightly, sometimes even laughing.

I didn't need the full translation, nor need to understand every word, I was pulled along emotionally with every verse sung anyway. By the end of it we'd all somehow ended up with damp eyes glittering in the candlelight. From the last few lines- about sleep, rest, and the end of war- I wondered if it was the end of the couple's life... Elves rarely slept unless they were very ancient.

It was late before I went back to my room, escorted by a helpful Elf- may or may not have been the same one as the singer but it was hard to tell after watching the singer in the dark- and relaxed as I found myself leaning against the wall near the door.

"Phew."

"You're back."

I jumped as Boromir's voice cut in through the dark. I saw a shape roll off my bed, stretch, but he seemed wide awake as he wandered on over to stand beside us.

"Sorry- I would have come earlier if I knew you were waiting."

"No- I liked having time to think." Boromir shook his head. He bent over a small lamp, striking a match and gently lowering it into the glass, illuminating the room with a soft warm glow. "I am very glad for these matches."

"Water?"

He nodded and I carefully made my way across the room to the jug.

"This is about the wizard."

Not Gandalf- not after who was around. I offered Boromir one of the silver goblets and he took it with a quick gulp of water.

"Okay."

"We must _not_ speak to him, nor to anyone OF him..." Boromir's words were soft but firm, insistent, and very clear. He lowered the cup down and leaned back against the wall.

"Funny." I responded. "I was going to say the same thing."

Bit of a relief that Boromir said it first. He leaned against the wall, sighing heavily, his body slumping as he shut his eyes a moment. "Thank you."

"For..."

"The wine. I … It is so easy to make an excuse."

"Aw. Come here." I wandered on over to give him the biggest bear hug I could muster, surprised by how comfortable I was starting to feel around him, and the sense of … I didn't know. Just that whatever we'd parted on … maybe it was the past now.

Boromir leaned against me, arms squeezing me, his cheek tickly with the hair that had grown back in over the past five days. "Thankyou."

"No problem."

"I wished to ask- are you tired yet?"

"Not really." I had woken up now. "Why. What were you thinking?"

"An hour of training. Nothing that will drain you." Boromir held out a light stick. "We will only go over the position of feet, body, and defending. Can you handle this?"

I shifted onto each foot as I took the 'sword', testing, and although painful nothing seemed to struggle too badly with weight. Bloody lucky after the fall I'd had. And I had to face it- I COULD be injured if I needed to fight. It might be good to get used to defending pain or no. "Okay. Yeah. I can do that."

"Then let us practice. Come."

* * *

A/N

Hello everyone!

Hope everyone is ready for Christmas... or avoiding it, depending on what's your beliefs or style. I'm not sure I am. We don't even have a tree up yet. (Tempted to put them up tonight while everyone is in bed and surprise them.) If I don't post again before Christmas- Merry Christmas! I may very well though as the Dwarves will appear... and who can resist teasing a Dwarf? :)

Spoiler - Elves can't resist at all.


	6. Beaten up and sent vegan

Training with Boromir turned the gentle giant into a sadistic maniac. There, under the watchful gaze of both star and curious Elves alike, I was beaten up, beaten up some more, and beaten up again until we were both physically ready to fall over.

The garden looked incredibly inviting for a sleep in the mild summer's night. No. We hobbled back towards where we were sleeping, somehow managing to walk up stairs (sometimes with the shove from behind assisting) and flopping into my bed. Both of us. There wasn't any sexual undertones though, no flirtation, we both stank and even though Boromir tried to mumble an explanation- he didn't need to. If the situation was swapped and someone told me to walk another twenty metres up stairs to MY room I would have probably found the nearest bed and slept in it as well. It wouldn't have mattered if that bed belonged to a random Elf, to Aragorn's mum, or even Lord Elrond himself. Tired was tired.

I fell asleep halfway through his 'sorry, need to sleep here' or something along those lines. It was a weird sleep- the strange restlessness that I sometimes got when I was too tired. That made no sense- how could someone have trouble sleeping when they were extremely sleep deprived? But I always had.

Legolas was the first sign that I was dreaming.

Oh- I was aware it was a dream. I was totally aware that I was physically buggered and that I was asleep in a bed beside an equally exhausted Boromir- and seeing the familiar face only made me sad. Lucid dreaming was no fun when you missed someone.

"I know you're a dream." I informed him.

"Am I?"

Arms enclosed around me, warmth, affection flooding into my senses, and even though it was a dream it felt incredible. I suddenly felt so emotional and exhausted in another sense- good god. I missed him. "I miss you. I don't care if you're a dream. I miss you. Come here."

"I can not."

Course not.

"I miss you." I repeated. It was strangely hard to find anything else to say- because in my emotional state, filled with the urge to cry and cling to him like a silly kid, those three words said more than anything else could have. I missed his smell, his smile, the way his eyes seemed to hold their own light, and even the strangeness Legolas sometimes had when he went into that Elf place that only Elves really understood. "I miss Cele. I miss our boy. I missed his first day at school..."

Legolas didn't say a word- he just stood there in my dream, holding onto me, his breath tickling the side of my neck and his heart beating hard where our bodies were pressed up against one another. It may have been just a dream but I remembered how he smelt and it teased me.

"Are you both okay?" If he was just a dream then this was apart of me. So I was asking myself this question. I didn't care about that either.

"Yes." Legolas finally spoke. He was whispering, in my ear, his long golden hair brushing against my body in that wonderful way. "Yes. He is so happy to be at school and I... I am waiting for you."

"Still."

"I promised, did I not? You and I will share the end of our lives together."

"It's been … scary. I wish you were here. Fighting beside me." I admitted. I could picture it all, the attack, falling on the horse, and while they may have been a small fraction of the whole adventure... they had really shaken me deep down.

I had really wanted it to be Legolas who had come to defend me.

God. I missed him so much.

"Wendy- Stay safe." There was a plead to his voice now, a tightening of his arms again, and then, "Find your strength within yourself. You _must_ stand on your own this time."

It felt like this was it. The end of the dream. I didn't want that- I willed the dream to keep going, willed it to let me hold him longer, but he was already slipping away into something else. Nothing of substance- just something that I held, that no longer felt or smelt like him, a kind of meaningless fog with no real presence to it.

There wasn't much else for it in this dream, in this vulnerable state where I was impossibly connected to every emotion I could usually ignore, and I knew that I was crying before I had even woken from the dream itself.

Boromir held me.

I felt his arms tighten, heard his soft voice going 'Shh, shh...' and clung to him now, crying openly, the separation hurting with the dream so close and so vivid in my mind. God. It was stupid. It had only been a week and sometimes we had spent longer than this apart.

Still it had been one hell of a week.

I fell asleep again, just a moment, desperate to return to that dream. I wasn't in his arms now, I was sitting beside him as he slept on the bed, his bare back illuminated from the candlelight, his silver-blonde hair in a teasing tail down his back.

He was asleep and dreaming- the only thing Elves seemed to sleep for. It was the older Elves that tended to sleep for the dreams, for memories and old friends long gone, but Legolas looked so youthful and so peaceful that I reached out. I knew it was a dream but I still wanted to feel him.

Silently, I stroked his back, warmth filling me as his lips curved up in an open smile. He was awake but he didn't move, his long dark eyelashes on his cheeks, inhaling deep and slow, the powerful muscles in his chest and back flexing as his lungs expanded and contracted with a deep satisfied sigh.

God. I _loved_ him.

"Tauriel..." He breathed out, slow, full of a longing that had once only been used when calling for me, and when he reached out in my direction I knew that Legolas was not seeking me. He was seeking 'Tauriel'. The warm smile increased as one of his eyes opened, and then the other, seeking someone out.

Not me.

It hurt and I stood up- or tried to- and for a brief moment there was shock registered in Legolas' face as we stared at one another as if we'd seen a ghost.

Then he was gone, I was awake, and Boromir was still holding onto me trying to comfort me with soft sleepy 'shh' noises.

"It was him..." I whispered against a soggy tunic, eyes shut, trying to reclaim him back. "Leggy. He was there. In my dream- talking to me. He said I had to stand alone. Then-"

No.

I didn't want to admit what he'd said in the second dream. It had to be my own mind, my own bad dream, because I had seen the second movie (admittedly I'd seen it by downloading it two weeks before it came out) and … well, it had to be that. The movie was teasing my poor stressed brain.

Was it unfair to tell Boromir about any of it?

He didn't seem angry or upset though. He just held onto me, a soft sigh brushing against my temple, with a hand brushing my back. "He would watch over you when he could."

"I miss him, Boromir, I miss them both so much. I'm sorry, I..."

"It's not something to be sorry about." Boromir cut in gently. "You cry, little friend, and when it is done, sleep. He would not mind me holding you till you sleep."

He probably wouldn't. "Only if you don't make a move..."

"No." Boromir agreed. "I am... content being a friend."

"Really?"

"Some obsessions fade with time- and when they go, we are shown that obsession cost us. If it was love it was the wrong kind." Boromir's arms tightened for another big bear hug. "I have had many lessons in obsession since we parted ways. Another time we will talk over our years apart properly, and we will laugh, and cry, and remember. It is late though. Sleep. Your Elf will stay near you any way he can. Perhaps it was really him coming to see you were safe."

That comforted me a little. Maybe it was too much to hope for- that Legolas could really do that- but even now I didn't really have a clear understanding of what it meant for him to be an Elf. I shut my eyes as the wet tears continued to slip out of my eyes of their own accord, leaking everything I had tried to keep inside, tears not only from the separation but also connected to the fright I'd had, the hurt, and the confusion... all the things that I seemed only able to release in the dark.

"I have your back." Boromir's soft voice was what I heard, when I was nearly asleep and was released, and the sense of being cared for washed over me.

It was going to be okay. Boromir wasn't here by mistake. I had someone I trusted deeply here to help me. And he was right. Legolas was waiting for me back home.

Still- the warning that I had to learn to stand alone did not leave my mind.

The sun was just rising over the edges of the river, barely cutting through the fog that lingered in the protective slopes above the river, casting shafts of golden light through where the fog had been thinnest.

I saw it, admired it, and got whacked across the shoulders with a sweep of the 'sword'. _Ow_!

"You have just lost your head and your shoulder." Boromir went to hit me across the head.

I hit him instead of answering, kicking instead of using the 'sword', and it was pretty satisfying to see the pain across his face. "Well- take that."

"At least you remember to use all your resources."

He came at me and I was forced to defend. It wasn't taking Boromir long to remember it all either- he was making impressive improvements even as the sun had risen. I was... not so quick at remembering. The honest truth was that I had never really been so good with swords. Archery had just been a fluke- I'd done it professionally before Middle Earth and had spent my childhood and teen years competing and training instead of having a life- but even that had been a steep learning curve from professionally designed modern bow at stationary target to normal bow pointed at moving target.

We had been at it since before dawn. Crash, charge of big body, crash, and parts of my body were smashed with the wooden sword time and time again as he reminded me of OTHER ways I could be maimed or killed.

I supposed I would appreciate it later. Right now it made me cranky.

"Come on..." I groaned, as he came at me again, totally ready for a nap. Wasn't even breakfast yet and I wanted a nap. "Slave driver."

"We train until the fog lifts." Boromir didn't even pause as he came at me and added, "Feet!"

Bloody feet. Never where they were supposed to be.

"If I had a bow you'd be running..." I was cut off as I was shoved into a tree, no trace of gentle friend today, winding me sightly as the sword cut against my stomach with a slice. Wouldn't be surprised to find splinters later.

"If you talk as much as you do now then no- you would be too distracted to attack." Boromir shook his head. "Stop whining and focus."

"Uh huh."

I focused, trying to avoid complaining or talking, trying to bring my entire attention to the moment. Mindfullness. Paying attention to the moment- not to anything else.

Bloody hell. My ass hurt at this exact moment.

The ass kicking continued, only now I was trying to give it back, and I had to admit on some level I was starting to remember things. No way near the level Boromir had- he was starting to look like his old self more and more even with that belly- but at least it was kind of coming together in my head. Some of it was common sense. Some of it was remembering to never point the feet in the direction that I was gong... or something like that.

He was careful to avoid the still injured leg- something I did not ignore- but Boromir meant it when he had said only when the fog had lifted.

By the time the fog had lifted the sun was high, warm, and we were both sweaty and red with the effort of the hard exercise in the warm sunshine.

It continued for a long time, longer than I'd expected, but neither of us seemed ready to collapse. We only paused for food before we resumed, hours slipping away as the sun moved across the sky, both of us exhausted as it finally started a decent towards the western horizon.

Boromir finally dropped his sword, hands up, and I did the same. Without needing to exchange a word, probably because we were both panting and exhausted, we lifted the training weapons and trudged wearily back up the path.

Baths were there to reward us. I was the first to discover mine as the room was closer to me, pool of water that was suspended slightly over the remains of a fire. Boromir didn't wait around this time- he was gone fast looking for his own.

It felt good.

I sunk into it with a soft groan, clinging to the edges, and let the warm water soak muscle and sweat. Soft sweet water made it even better. Here I relaxed. The sun was still low enough to stretch across the floor and across my bare skin, casting shapes from the carved open walls and the creeping flowering vines, but the warmth seemed to be more bearable now that I was still. I didn't even mind when one of the Elves appeared to leave clothing nearby over a chair- or that they openly took a peek at my body.

"It's different." I agreed.

There was no shame in her face. She nodded, gazing at me, openly taking in my wobbly bits where skin was rounded and softened with weight. Totally different to an Elf's natural build.

If it had been a human woman who'd come in, stared at my body, and openly focused on wobbly bits ...I might have been bothered. But I'd discovered that Elves tended to be curious before they were judgemental- unless they were somehow feeling threatened or judged. The world was so different to them that they no longer compared it- just observed it. Stayed distant emotionally and literally from it. If it wasn't apart of their world they'd find it curious, let it entertain them, and then forget about it.

In a sense that was kind of nice. Also a little too dismissive for me. I liked being apart of the whole world... not just one part of it.

A horn blew somewhere, a long echoing call that was probably heard in every corner of the valley, startling me but not ruffling a single amber hair on the beautiful elven woman's head. She simply twisted her head in the direction it came from, peaceful, calm, clearly having anticipated the sound long before it was made.

"Lord Elrond returns." She informed me. "There is no hurry to dress, however, for he has new guests."

New guests.

Oh my god. It was the Dwarves. They'd made it.

"The Dwarves?"

"Yes." 'Red Lady', as I decided to nickname her for her hair... not because she was trying to birth shadow babies like the Game of Thrones Red Lady... had finally turned away and strode slowly around the room with no haste or concern. "They were observed before dawn coming for here."

Before dawn- so some Elves had basically followed them all the way here. I nodded as I sat up, water and petals swirling around me, sore muscles protesting at the motion. I gazed down over the edge of the tub but really all I could see was the trees on the other side of the river's steep banks and a bit of fluffy cloud in blue sky.

Excitement didn't need to see the Dwarves. I wasn't sure why I was so excited about their appearance, it was pretty clear they'd come here at some point, but I suddenly didn't want to sit around in a bath.

'Red Lady' moved for the curtains a full minute before I heard him. Boromir was out of his bath now, charging past, just barely missing getting a view of me in the bathtub as he headed for the stairs heading down. His feet made quite a lot of noise, big heavy man in boots already, so it wasn't surprising that she'd heard him coming before I had.

I groaned as I raised my body up as well, a little sore and unhappy at the motion, but if Boromir was going to see then perhaps I should as well. To my surprise Red Lady was quick to help me- cloth for drying, and then the clothing itself, which wasn't particularly pretty... but it was functional with pockets that sat deep, natural cloth, earthy tones of greens and golden browns, and most importantly, seemed to be a hip-length tunic and pants that I could fit on all curvy areas without needing to tighten them. I had been expecting _another_ dress. It wasn't Elvish either. No fancy cloth, no fancy bits and pieces, it was incredibly plain and I kind of liked it that way.

Boromir came back up the stairs just as I was coming out, still with bare feet, and without a word my hand was grabbed and I was yanked down the stairs. We had been training all day and _now_ I felt it.

"Oi- careful!" I protested. Holy cow. Leg did not like this. I just about toppled over on his head as he tried to lead me down the stairs.

"Sorry. They're here." Boromir seemed to remember himself and let go, grabbing my arm to help me get balance back.

"I know."

"I will ask again. But first-"

Boromir turned, foot hovering over the next step, and suddenly he turned to me. "Wenduim."

"Yeah?"

"This time it must be about the hobbit and the dwarves." Boromir grasped my hands, squeezing as he gazed down at me, "-if you come, Wendy, you must swear an oath to foremost serve _them_. Do you understand?"

"Huh?"

He had a weird expression- like he was trying to figure out how to say something I wouldn't like. "When we travelled- you were not …"

"What?"

"Frodo was not in the foremost of your concerns."

Ow. It was true though. I … I supposed I'd left him to the others. "I wasn't really going to help protecting him."

"No- you would not have helped. But you required protecting at times, times when we could have spent focusing on Frodo, and... this is different."

"Hey... it … I didn't plan on that..."

I was really trying to not take this personally. I felt one of his rough hands grasp mine, grabbing it, as he frowned, the lines clear on his face.

" No, I know. You were not useless, do not mistake me, but you had inexperience." Boromir grasped my hand gently as he gazed up at me. "This time- you have some experience. You know when to fight and when to retreat. We must this time ensure we fight and help where we can- and we must watch the hobbit's back."

"I'm pretty sure he can watch his own back, Boromir..." I muttered. Couldn't he? Hadn't he already done that? "But I won't let an axe cleave his head in two. I promise"

"Aye- I know you wouldn't. But this time it must be about him. I will not protect you- I have decided. You focus on him." I blinked at that as Boromir took a step down, so that we were eye to eye with each other and equal height, and given that he was repeating himself... I supposed he was very serious. "Wenduin."

"I … didn't ask you to." I supposed I'd just ...expected it. Now that I was thinking about it, yes, that had been exactly what I'd been expecting if we go. Guilt rose up. "I know."

"It would not be a bad idea for you to stay here- I want you safe also." Boromir gazed away, suddenly, adding, "But I want you to come."

"I can't do both." I wasn't sure what I wanted to do either. He was right though. I hadn't done enough to protect Frodo. It hadn't really been my job- not with other more capable warriors there- and by the time I'd started to get confidant enough to actually contribute and not cause problems by trying to help... he'd run off with Sam. How could I stay in Rivendel... now that I was here? I leaned against the handrail, trying to think, noticing that some distance down below we could now see the large group of Dwarves led by Gandalf himself.

"Come."

I followed Boromir for about thirty seconds down the slope before I couldn't help it. The words slipped out without any more ability to think it through. "I'm going to come. I already have everything I need, don't I?"

I was kind of shocked at that. Oh. Okay then. I had committed. Maybe I'd always know I would eventually.

"Of course you are." Boromir seemed relieved. He turned and started down the stairs, lighter somehow, adding, "I would miss your company and the tools from your world!"

I raised my eyes to the sky a moment. Shesh. He just wanted me for the tools.

The Dwarves had camped near the edge of the buildings, already with a fire going, and I had to assume they had refused any kind of beds or accommodation. Lord Elrond would probably have offered it if he offered them a place as guests. They were still some distance down, probably as close to the entrance as they could manage, and it was only Gandalf who seemed to look up to us and notice us. It was too far to see his expression. The others were unpacking, rolling out blankets, or taking tentative steps into the nearest building.

Lord Elrond came towards us, arms out, looking pleased. He looked quite different in armour, a slight sheen of sweat glinting on his brow from the ride, smelling of horse now. No less beautiful, no less otherworldly, but at least he too seemed to require bathing. "You are both looking stronger. The Dwarves are housed below."

Maybe he had offered them a place to sleep. Silly Dwarves. The Elven house wasn't going to eat them.

Boromir bowed, jabbed me, and I did the same awkwardly. Oh right. Lord Elrond.

"You are still guests- there's no need for that. I come to inform you that there will once again be a feast- and you are all invited."

"Oh, great!" I smiled faintly. "Will it be with the Dwarves?"

"Yes- it will be in the same place as last night, and it will begin soon. They are clearly hungry."

He nodded and moved past me, slow, gazing calmly behind him. Gandalf was following now, his grey figure making his way lightly up the steps through the golden sunset light, looking weary and energetic all at once.

When he gazed our way, he was not looking to Lord Elrond but to us, and I didn't need to see his face to know that we'd caught his interest. This may not have been a good thing- Gandalf was a careful Wizard.

Lord Elrond had turned by now, saving us both from Gandalf, as he walked back along the path to meet the Elderly wizard. They exchanged a few words, words too soft to hear, and then vanished through the flowering trees up the path.

The Dwarves did not ignore us. Boromir and I were still standing there, neither of us having spoken, when the first of the Dwarves appeared up the path that Gandalf had just come up.

"It's the woman!" Ori exclaimed. He pointed openly, clearly exhausted, his face wet. "Hello!"

"The woman? It is..." Fili peered around Thorin, brightening, adding, "When did you get here?"

Thorin came up to us, gazing at both of us, a slight frown creasing his forehead. It must not have looked all that good- here we were, stalking them around the country, having known their secret plans. He asked, openly suspicious, "And what brings you both to the company of Elves?"

"We come in hope of finding ourselves in the company of Dwarves, Thorin Oakenshield." Boromir stepped forward. He knelt, suddenly half his height, and gazed evenly eye-to-eye to Thorin. "We are here for same reason that had us approach you in Bree."

"Is that so? You both came this way to be told no again, did you?"

"It's no short journey to Rivendel- and not one known by most." Balin came to Thorin's side as his eyes went from myself to Boromir. Maybe there was a glimmer of something there though, amusement, maybe even respect. "How did you know we would come here?"

"Oh, shut up. We're hungry. The food will get cold!" Kili was already started halfway up the path, most of the Dwarves with him, with only Balin, Thorin and Gloin standing there staring at us.

We must have looked strange- we were both exhausted, our faces a little paler than they had been before, and I had to admit I had grasped onto a tree branch to give my sore leg a rest. It wasn't bad but it was still bothersome after the hard work we'd been doing.

Plus- the bruises I'd delighted in giving Boromir during training had started to come up on his bare arms and hands. I supposed the same was for me- he'd given me a fair amount of whacks too.

"We didn't." Boromir admitted. "We were going to wait closer to the Misty Mountains."

Thorin's eyes turned on me now, boring into me, and I had to admit there was something about the Dwarf that screamed 'Presence'. There were some people I'd met in life who had that effect, people who had history, experience, and a heritage that was somehow special... that could tell half their story simply by the way they carried themselves.

He was one of them.

"Well there, or the road before," I agreed. "We rode until-"

I hesitated. Should we mention that we lost an attack?

"Until?"

"Orcs." Boromir answered. "Neither horse were really suited to the ride."

Thorin nodded faintly, turning away, and started up the path after the other now long gone Dwarves.

"Come- we can talk more over a hearty meal." Balin patted Boromir's arm. "You both look as if you could use a bite or two."

"It has been a tiring day." Boromir agreed. He stood up, heavy, and we followed Balin up the path behind the others.

The Elves had trolled the Dwarves.

It was the first thought I had, this realisation as we came across a table spread beautifully with salads of all kinds, with great beautiful green leaves, salads comprised mostly of salads, fruit that was glistening with sweet juice, jugs and goblets full of beautiful fresh clean water- the Elves were messing with the Dwarves.

We were seated in the ornate golden chairs, their spectacular gold-leaf design only enhanced by the twilight's warm glow, soft cushions a relief to my sore muscles, and offered the plates of food.

I took a seat beside Boromir, exchanging glances with him as we were given a plate laden with salads of all kinds- each of them a work of art in colour and freshness- and music began.

It was light, dancing through the air already filled with the song of birds farewelling the sun as it sank away, the Elves their perfect calm faces, but when I gazed out into the forest that edged Rivendel I swore I could once again see curious Elves in the trees. They hadn't even bothered to conceal themselves- something they _could_ have done without any real effort.

Boromir leaned toward me, voice low as he asked softly, "Does the meal seem..."

"They're teasing the Dwarves." I said quietly. None of the Dwarves seemed to overhear me, they were talking to each other, Ori asking loudly for chips, and Boromir actually grinned as he nodded with a quick subtle nod. I was sure that only the day before there had been all kinds of foods offered to us. Right? We'd had breads, meats, cheese, and yes there _had_ been a considerable amount of salad also... but nothing quite like this.

Boromir lifted a flower between his fingers and examined it. "I have not eaten one before..."

"They can be eaten. I think." Some were probably inedible... but the Elves wouldn't poison the dwarves. I took a curious bite and found that the flower had a fragrent peppery taste that tingled. It was kind of nice actually. Even Boromir seemed to be enjoying it.

The Dwarves were not so impressed.

"I don't like green food..." The little young Dwarf said quietly as he inspected his plate. Hopefully he gazed around, "Have they got any chips?"

Lord Elrond and Gandalf appeared, laughing and relaxed, the two of them going to where two empty seats waited for them. Lord Elrond gave nothing away about the Elves teasing the Dwarves with this food, nor did he blink when he was offered the same food, because as Gandalf and Thorin's new swords came to his attention he had something better to think about. My attention went to the hobbit. Bilbo. It was the first time I had really seen him, face to face, and good god was he tiny.

He was sliding away his sword as our eyes met and seemed nervous for some reason. Bilbo was very quick to look away and attempt to eat- even though he clearly was not enjoying the meal anymore than the others.

I blinked, confused, wondering if I really looked that scary.

Boromir had cheered up, striking up a conversation with the twins, sharing tales of their adventures as if they were old friends.

"You- _you_ have seen an Mûmakil?" Fili exclaimed. "_No_."

"They are just legends!"

"I would not lie!" Boromir responded. He had cheered up, his old self again, gesturing as he continued, "The beasts are three, nay, five times taller than any horse and with great horns. One foot can trample a war horse and rider without an effort and with a sweep of their great tusks and trunk, will throw a dozen warriors through the air as if they weigh nothing."

I wasn't sure if this was a bit too spoilery or not. I hesitated, meeting Gandalf's eyes by sheer old habit, but he was speaking with Lord Elrond in soft tones. Lord Elrond gave me the impression that he was both listening to Boromir and to Gandalf.

"Boromir..." I was worried more about whether he'd talk about those flying dinosaurs... nasgals. Or anything else for that matter. I was trying to trust him, because his little talk earlier (which I still felt kind of ego-bruised over) proved he was taking it seriously, but Boromir did have an ego. He had also done some incredible things during War of the Ring.

He didn't talk about those things though- not in specific detail.

"Excuse me-" Bilbo said, rather timid and pale, "But when you talk of that thing, do you mean... a Oliphaunt?"

"What's that?"

"A great elephant with six tusks that can throw thirty riders..."

"It sounds the same." Fili agreed. "Must be. Have you seen one?"

"No, and nor do I want to." Bilbo responded as he grasped for his vest, straightening it, fingers running along buttons as he checked they were all perfect, his actions and face making the nerves obvious as his eyes went from Boromir to the Dwarves. "No. They're just stories."

"So are Dragons to most of Middle Earth, where they have long since gone, and yet some still live." Gloin responded. He tossed down a half eaten leaf with a grunt and drank the water, or tried to, but it was clear that it was equally as disappointing as the salad when he spat it back in.

Thorin was watching us again though. I could feel it. But his attention was drawn by Lord Elrond as Lord Elrond asked a question that made the Dwarf''s attention shift fast.

"And what were you doing on the Great East Road?"

I was content to listen now, as Boromir described pre-destruction Helm's Deep, the horse lords of Rohan, the beauty of Minas Tirith, and I had to admit he told incredible tales. It made me miss the places, miss seeing all those incredible places, wish I'd paid more attention to each rather than rush through them in the midst of an adventure.

"We will talk of that later." Gandalf answered Lord Elrond.

Lord Elrond nodded, taking a sip of water, before turning his attention to Boromir.

I gazed around as Boromir talked, really taking in Rivendel, marvelling in the great silvery waterfalls falling between lush forest, the smell of water in the air, the buildings made of a silver wood I had never seen naturally in my own world, every inch of them carved and made to be beautiful, the sunshine that almost always fixed on Rivendel during the daytime, and the real sense of calm and safety.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Bilbo's quiet voice came from beside me. I saw he'd come to sit beside me, as Boromir was invited to sit where he had sat, the Dwarves and him exchanging happy loud tales... probably partly exaggerated... as they ignored the food.

"It is." I agreed. Bilbo shifted up onto Boromir's chair and he took a mouthful of the food, careful, but he seemed happy to eat it. I figured now was as good a time as any to ...well, to bond... because if Boromir got his way then we'd be joining them. "I heard Hobbitin is also beautiful though."

"You've heard of it?" Bilbo asked. There was a flash of sadness across his face and he nodded, gazing out at Rivendel, "It is beautiful. Nothing like this but... but..."

"You miss it."

"Every moment." He admitted softly. Bilbo went quiet as Gandalf gazed to him, forking another mouthful in, only continuing when he'd eaten enough, "I imagine it won't change while I'm gone."

"Course not." I agreed.

"Who talked to you about it?"

"I just hear things." I wasn't going to really answer that. "Just that it was beautiful. Hobbits, with curly hair and hairy feet, living under hills in beautiful little homes. I suppose to a Hobbit they aren't small at all."

"No- they are perfect." Bilbo agreed.

Maybe this wasn't helping. I tried something else instead, tried to distract him as his face fell, and asked, "Um... still, it never changes, so it'll still be there. Like it was before."

"It will. But will I be like I was before?"

Who knew. I didn't think so. Even now, even while talking to young Bilbo, I still... saw the cheeky old hobbit, all ready for adventure, every part of him craving the open road again. No. He wouldn't be. I didn't tell him that though.

The Dwarves had started to leave, claiming to be full, though very clearly they had barely eaten a bite. Boromir was quick to be invited along. Bilbo stood up quickly as well to follow, Thorin silent as he strode after them.

Silence fell now, Lord Elrond, myself and Gandalf sitting around a still mostly full table. Their attention was on me- and while I knew I wasn't unwelcome, I wanted to get out of there. Questions would be hard to answer.

"I guess I've eaten enough." I decided, standing, and bowed with the same stiffness as before. I was actually really sore all over. "Thank you..."

Lord Elrond nodded, Gandalf barely moving, and as I went to leave, Lord Elrond's calm voice called, "Wait."

I paused and turned slowly.

He gestured to one of the Elves. They exchanged words, before Lord Elrond stood.

"I believe the games should end now, do you not?"

"Games?"

Lord Elrond gestured to the table and the food, amusement coming across his face as he lifted one of the discarded lettuce leaves, shaking his head. "There seems to be less than I would usually offer a guest. Tell the Dwarves to prepare a hot fire. More food _will_ come."

"Oh, they'll be relieved." I smiled faintly. "Okay."

"And Wenduin-" Lord Elrond added as I urged my body's sore muscles to start moving, "Sleep early tonight. You have done more today than I would have advised."

"I will."

With that I hurried after the hungry Dwarves, careful on the sloping stairs, glad at least I had something to offer them.

The food went down well. The ale- not so much. Not from Boromir's perspective. His good mood was gone very quickly, though he tried to hide it, and when we exchanged a glance, I could see that his fingers were trembling as one of them offered him one.

"Nope." I called, making my way across, grasping it before Boromir could take it. "Nope. I have not trained with him all day to get him fat."

"Drink does not make a man fat!" Gloin complained.

"Dwarves on the other hand..." Fili grinned as he nodded to where Bombur had taken his 'share' of the meal.

I offered the drink to Bilbo. He gazed at it, blinking, and took a careful sip of the drink.

"I think it's good." I reassured him.

"It's... not bad." He admitted. Then he smiled, his shoulders visibly sagging, and took a much longer drink. "It's not bad at all."

"Good." I turned back to Boromir, who had shut his eyes a moment, much less relaxed. I grabbed a sausage on a fork and shoved it into his mouth. "There. Eat."

"Women." One of the Dwarves I had yet to remember the name of, with short grey hair braided tight around his face and a short beard, shook his head. "Better to leave them behind."

"Aye. Glad I left mine at home." Gloin responded.

I flushed at their tone, shaking my head, but I could handle it for my friend's sake. Tough. Still- they didn't try and give him alcohol again, because I remained there, and I was relieved when Boromir decided he needed to sleep. So did I. We were both physically exhausted.

"Where is Thorin?"

"Busy, I imagine." Balin responded. He stood up as well, careful, looking exhausted also. "But we will not vanish tomorrow."

I wasn't sure about that – didn't I remember them sneaking off? I hesitated as Boromir exchanged glances with us. I suspected if they did we'd follow. We'd decided and we knew what they were up to.

"All right." Boromir said first. "Then we'll sleep."

"First, just to be clear-" Balin moved across to us. "You both agreed to forfeit any profit?"

"Yeah." I agreed. Why the hell not? I didn't need any of that stuff. I was happy with myself and Boromir surviving it. "Dwarven treasure isn't as important as … you know. Actually managing it somehow."

"Good to know. Goodnight, both of you."

As we were heading up we saw Thorin come down. I turned to watch as Bilbo and Balin stood, following the Dwarf up a different path, to where Gandalf waited in the shadows with a gentle lamp held in his hand.

Boromir hesitated beside me as he saw this as well.

"Then they'll see the map tonight." He said quietly.

"Looks that way."

"We should watch the Dwarves carefully." Boromir said softly. He nodded down to where the Dwarves continued to eat and drink, shifting on his feet, muttering, "Even an hour behind them is an hour we cannot afford."

"Agreed." It might not have seemed like much but he was right. When walking long distance … that kind of time was hard to make up without exhausting self. We were both still pretty unfit and buggered from training. We'd only catch them only to need a rest... which I doubted they'd indulge us with. "So are we going to take turns keeping an eye on them?"

"They will remain for at least a night. They are exhausted and in need of much rest." Boromir shook his head. "I think we should ensure that by morning we will move closer, ready to move, ready to follow. That is- if you're still able to join me..."

"I am." I agreed. I turned to look at Boromir in the moonlight, surprisingly calm given what I was agreeing to do, and nodded. My mind was already planning it out, every part of it, right down to how the hell to pack the pack so that it was carried most efficiently. "Guess we better get a good sleep and pack early. Just in case."

"Then let us also get a good rest. No bad dreams." Boromir nodded. He smiled, straightening, as he turned and started up the path heavily towards our building. "I have missed this- it is what I needed. A life of inactivity is no life for any warrior."

"Agreed."

* * *

A/N Hope you all had a great Christmas! :) Peaceful, fun, whatever you needed. Had a great time at my Aunt's place in the country... with no running water. In the middle of summer. THAT was fun. Found out that my 11 year old cousin loves writing and is already planning all the books she wants to write. :)


	7. In the Company of Dwarves

I lay in bed a while, half asleep, missing the sense of someone beside me. Not Boromir... it wasn't that... it was just that I was so used to having someone there. Maybe it was the first time since coming here that I was actually aware of it. Before now it had been different. Sleeping on the side of roads, sleeping beside Boromir here, so tonight it really was the first time I'd slept alone since I'd left home.

Crazy.

I knew he was waiting for me. I knew my family, my home, it was all there waiting. When I was lying in bed alone, with the distant sound of song and music, it didn't matter how logically crazy it was- I missed them. I couldn't quieten or drown out the part of my mind that felt their absence.

Nor could it quieten the part of my mind that recalled the dream from the night before. I'd done a great job ignoring it all day but here it was impossible to. I was almost afraid to dream. It had just been a dream, that was it, and yet it tore at me badly. Seeing Legolas call for an Elf.

Wasn't that what he was supposed to do? Find an Elf? He wasn't just any old Elf- he was pretty bloody special amongst his own people. It scared me and I was shocked by that. I was scared to see his people, his home and worst of all, meet his Father.

Sleep did come, I was too exhausted to avoid it, but it was restless and I couldn't avoid the bad dreams that came with my fretting. Dreams of Legolas calling for this female Elf, dreams of his father staring at me, dreams of home.

When I woke I didn't feel rested. I felt sore, irritable, and annoyed that Boromir was packing the pack for me in the corner.

"Sorry- did not mean to wake you." He said quietly. "You look as if you need more sleep."

"What does that even mean?" I grumbled. I shut my eyes, wanting to be annoyed at something or someone, and shoved a pillow over my face. "Don't look then."

"Sleep. I will pack."

I did sleep a while longer. Somehow I felt a little better on waking, a little clearer, but still I was having issues denying that I was feeling less secure now.

"Wake up, Wendy..."

How long had it been? Five minutes?

"You just told me to sleep!" I groaned, making a half arsed attempt to grab pillows, and ...holy crap. I may not have felt the muscular ache yesterday from our obsessive training on and off... but today? I felt it. I felt it _all over_.

"No, get up. The Dwarves have left. Get up." Boromir grabbed my ankles and hoisted me out of bed, only just managing to grab a wrist to get me before I fell on my butt, and shoved the pack in my arms. "It is lucky you are already dressed..."

"I am?" I _had_ forgotten to change. I stood there, half asleep, watching as he hurried to lift the pack onto his shoulder as well.

"What is..."

"Come on. Before the Elves notice."

Boromir yanked on my hand, tugging, leading me outside. It was kind of rude to run away like this... the sun hadn't even risen... but he was right about the Dwarves. They hadn't even been able to tolerate one full day with the Elves.

We were probably noticed as we hurried away, probably seen, but no one came to stop us. I tried to take in as much as I could... I didn't know if we'd ever come this way again... but I was too exhausted to really take much more in. Could have spent years here and still not have seen enough. It was also possible I would never see the Lady Galadriel again.

Sadness welled up at that. I didn't know why, didn't understand it, but I had to admit there was apart of me that loved the ancient Elven lady. Maybe the feeling was shared amongst all those who met her- I remembered that Gimli had been pretty emotional to part ways with her as well.

I sighed, a little sad, the thought that I may never see Lord Elrond again either, nor anything else here... all of it pre-war. They would sail away, some of them winding up in the ancient lands of my own world, growing so ancient that they would choose to transcend into a form that could join their own 'Gods' or sleep and dream. The Elves of Rivendel would never remain the way they were now and within just a few years would be leaving. Sailing away. No more valley, no more songs echoing through the trees, the buildings falling apart and being carried away piece by piece by the rivers and waterfalls or rotting back down into the earth. All the stories of this valley, all the history, it would be forgotten.

Time. Even the Elves and their homes weren't immune.

"Wendy..."

"Sorry." I smiled, or tried to, but I felt a bit teary for some reason. The images of Rivendel rotting, falling to pieces, the valley silent of music and laughter... I didn't know why it made me so sad. The end of their culture was just around the corner... and for Elves eighty years was like a year to us.

It wasn't far.

I shook my head free of that sadness. "Sorry. I'm coming. Where are they?"

He grasped my shoulder a moment and squeezed.

"There." Boromir paused on the bridge, pointing, and there we could see the Dwarves several hundred metres up along the ridge. He let go of my hand and moved ahead, shouldering his pack into a more comfortable position, moving ahead. "We will catch them if we walk at a good pace."

"Uphill." I sighed. Okay. Back to adventuring. Wish we'd had breakfast or coffee or something first. Or a bath. A nap. Wait for the sun to rise. Maybe I'd get all that if they rejected us again... but now that I was starting to wake I had to admit I was equally as interested in catching up as Boromir was.

We made our way up the hill, the waterfalls making bridges slippery, the warm summer's dawn with no fog today. There was moisture clinging to grasses and leaves, the trees already releasing the smell they got when things were going to get warm, clouds being chased across the early morning sky by a fast wind unfelt in the valleys.

The Dwarves were perhaps twenty minutes, thirty minutes ahead, which wasn't too bad. I could see them from time to time along the path through the trees, winding their way out of the valley once again, and as I gazed back to Rivendel, I realised what I didn't have.

"Boromir..."

"What?" Boromir turned as well and he gazed down to the Valley. "Are they following?"

By they I had to assume he meant the Elves. Nope. "My bow. We left my bow near the armoury- remember? Had to make arrows..."

Boromir swore at that. He frowned, crossing his arms, glancing back to where the Dwarves continued to trudge away. I could see it in his face, he was torn, probably well aware of how much that bow meant to me... but it could add another half hour to our journey. Perhaps more. He was just as sore as I was and neither of us could hurry down there.

"Forget it." I decided. It hurt but... it was just a bow. We could buy or find another one. "Boromir- leave it."

"Are you sure?"

"We have enough coin for another bow, don't we?" I tried to smile.

Boromir sighed. He shook his head as he took a step down. "Sorry. It was a rush."

"Come on. We've got Dwarves to catch. They might reject us again, anyway, and then we'd have to go back." I moved past him to the path. Now it wasn't just Rivendel I was missing... but it was just a bow, even if it was Legolas' gift to me, and some things just weren't worth stressing over.

Boromir followed my progress this time, our aching bodies making their way slowly but steadily until we had finally made it to the top of the path. From here it was reasonably flat and we moved a little faster, Rivendel vanishing behind us as the valley curved and the trees grew taller and thicker, the sounds and peace of the valley slowly fading from my heart.

Soon Boromir overtook me and I followed him, eyes on his back, glad at least for some company.

We caught up with the Dwarves and Bilbo just before they entered the long pathway, and none of them seemed all that surprised to see us.

"You want something?"

"The same as ever." Boromir responded.

"Yeah." I agreed. Bloody hell. We were here now. "We'd like to help as well."

Balin and Thorin exchanged a look, a long meaningful look, before Balin stepped towards us. With a easy flourish of paper he presented us with two contracts.

"Good- then you'll both want to sign this." He responded. "Ink, quill..."

"Got them." Ori held out a little jar of something black and a slightly battered and bent looking quill that had clearly seen better days. "You can make an X if you can't write."

"We can both write." Boromir took it. He didn't hesitate, with a quick scrawl, he'd signed his name on one. Balin took it and started to blow on the ink.

I took the quill. Long contract. Really long. Balin must have spent ages writing these out... but I sensed that they wanted to keep moving, and besides, what could it really say that was any different to what I expected? It was probably like Bilbo's contract, not holding them accountable for any kind of death, except that I was agreeing to no money or something. I signed as well, the feather scratching across the paper awkwardly, some of the ink running. Not a pro at quills. Not by a long shot. They were harder than they looked.

"Okay."

"That'll do." Balin agreed as he took it from me. "Welcome. Introductions..."

"_Later_. Let's keep moving." Thorin was already turning and walking. "We don't need the Elves any more involved than they already are."

"Agreed." Nori, at least I _assumed_ that was the correct name, agreed. It could have been Dori... but then I suspected I was getting Finding Nemo mixed up there.

Here we were. Apart of Thorin's Company.

Crazy. Yet it was okay... it wasn't like we could screw it up... it wasn't as delicate as the War of the Ring... was it? All we'd really do was follow them, kill some things, and possibly meet a dragon. Not a big deal at all.

I was going to keep telling myself that anyway.

Walking wasn't eventful. We trudged along, sometimes in the middle of Dwarves, sometimes behind, making our way through the narrow rocky passage and up into the rolling rocky hills where they had originally been chased by the Orc packs.

There were several large smoking fires around now, Wargs dead and Orcs smouldering in the remains of bonfires, crows picking at whatever hadn't burnt. It smelt awful

"All dead?" Thorin called up.

Fili, who had climbed high, nodded as he gazed around. "There's not a sign of life for miles. Except for the crows."

"Good. Let's get to the Mountain Pass. We'll reach it by dark if we walk steady." Thorin stepped ahead, gesturing towards the Mountains, shouldering his pack as he moved forward. "We have wasted enough time as it is."

No one argued with that. Bilbo sighed, looking kind of tired, and as he and I met eyes, he tried to smile. Poor hobbit. It had to be a steep learning curve for him too.

Walking took on a kind of rhythm. The slopes of the hills became my focus, instead of the distance, and it became a quest just to reach the top of the next hill. Rocks were everywhere, sometimes sharp, sometimes rolly, sometimes appearing out of no where, large ones that had to be walked around or smaller ones that took a bit of a step upward to get over them.

There was the occasional talk, more than a few occasional curious glances in our direction, but we were all now lost in that 'make it to the top of the next hill' zone.

Slopes became more common as the day went on, the sky darkening and lighting under clouds and warm sunshine, the Mountains coming closer and closer to us. The bush grew sparse, trees far and few between, grass shorter and spikey, grass seeds clinging to my pants and the laces on my boots. There were less and less signs of wildlife as well, birds gone, all except for the occasional eagle that swept past above.

We came to a road and there we paused, a quick collection of water from a nearby stream and a quick rest the only purpose, but it gave us an opportunity to sit in the shade of a gnarled old tree that was half fallen over and to finally look at one another properly.

After a quick bathroom break, of which I found myself mentally thanking Legolas again for the toilet paper however cheap it was, I ended up sitting next to the Dwarf who still had an axe embedded in his skull, who was surprisingly sweet, offering me half an apple as he swatted away flies from his face.

"Thanks."

"Tis not a problem."

His words kind of surprised me. I was used to the guy being silent... expected him to grunt... especially with the brain damage he must have had. He was slow talking but very clear.

"Bifur." He intruded himself.

"Wendy."

Bifur smiled, nodding, and took a bite of the apple. Chewing he gazed up to the mountain, considering it, and then asked, "Are you a mother?"

I was startled by this. I hadn't been expecting it. "I..."

Why hide it though?

"I am, yes." I admitted.

"Thought so. I make toys." Bifur took another big bite. "Know a mother when I see one."

"You have a child?" Gloin's attention was raised now. He moved across, coming to sit with us, taking a long drink from a flask. "How old?"

"Just five."

"My son's seventy nine." Gloin held out a little folding image, sketches of two figures, and I was stunned to be seeing a 'young' Gimli. Looked quite different to how I remembered him...

"Your child is so young and yet you're here?"

"He's with his father." I smiled faintly. "I'll see him after... but I do miss him. I don't have a drawing of him."

"Should get one. Makes long journeys much easier." Gloin gazed down at the two figures, Gimli and the female Dwarf, some affection in his face as he looked at both of them. "It is always hard to travel- it doesn't matter how old they are."

"I should." I agreed. I tore my eyes away from young Gimli and gazed down at the pack I'd been given. No image was in there... and now I kind of wished there was. I only had the drawing Cele had given me.

I wondered how they'd feel if they knew my son was a half-Elf. Probably not so sweet.

"Wendy is also a skilled archer." Boromir spoke up.

"Do not mistake us- a mother is no small a thing. Give a mother an axe and she is a fearsome thing." Gloin grunted at that. "My wife may be a beauty- but she is still a Dwarf and a Mother. What about you, Boromir?"

"I have a daughter." Boromir responded. He had put his hand into his pocket, fingering where he'd probably stored the photo of her, but he didn't pull it out. "Still just a baby. I do not see her enough- the mother does not allow it."

"She will after this quest is over." A grey beareded Dwarf spoke up. He gestured to himself adding, "Oin. Help us and no woman would deny you're a worthy father."

"No kidding." I muttered. If she believed it. I had to admit I still felt kind of annoyed towards this mystery woman who'd refused Boromir time with his kid. That was probably not helping his battle with alcohol. "And if she does then I'll have a word with her."

"You two should arrange their marriage. That would help." Gloin offered.

I met Boromir's eyes, amusement on both of our faces at that suggestion, and knew that was never going to happen. It was kind of funny though. I wondered how Legolas would feel about that.

He grinned, amusement across his face, shaking his head slightly as he swatted away a fly bothering him.

"Fill up your water one last time- we need to keep moving. It looks as if there may be a storm coming." Thorin called.

We stood, Bifur holding out his hand to help me up, and after one last quick dunk of flask in the creek, an ibuprofen offered to Boromir and myself for our poor aching bodies, we started again up the sloping road.

Progress didn't seem to be fast, and yet when I looked back from time to time, it was clear that we actually had made some progress. It made the aching body worth it, the blisters under my feet, the sore patches where I still had bruises from yesterday's training session.

The road grew quite steep again. It was clearly ancient, bumpy, boulders here and there, tuffs of grass trying to grow up, but the land was so harsh that barely anything seemed able to re-establish in the road. A horse might be able to pass over here... but not much else.

"Are we going up the same one as last time?" I asked Boromir, moving a bit closer, wondering all of a sudden. We'd tried to cross the mountain and it had been a disaster.

"That pass-" Boromir whispered to me, "No."'

"Good."

"It was a different season also." Boromir added. "There may be no snow but there may be storms. The real danger is the Orcs we may find- the High Pass is known for them."

I sighed. Course. Couldn't be that easy... and I did kind of recall there being thunderstorms in the movie. That would probably be accurate. That did also remind me of ...well, the Goblin King.

Urgh.

"What about the goblins?" I asked Boromir quietly, and he frowned, nodding slowly.

"I have kept them in my mind. Follow my lead."

"Okay. I trust you." He was more experienced. He'd probably know what to do there.

"If we move quickly and quietly we won't draw attention." Oin spoke up from behind us. "You both follow our lead."

"We will." I agreed, glancing back to the old Dwarf, and gave a shaky smile.

He nodded.

"We need more warriors." Ori moved up to my side, voice soft, admitting, "You okay with a sword?"

"No worse than anyone else here." I wasn't sure why I answered that way. It sounded positive, and yet, kind of realistic. After all... I had already discovered that the Dwarf with an axe in his forehead, Bifur, was a toymaker. My memory, although it hadn't recalled every job, seemed to have some memory of hearing the others being listed as farmers, or smiths, or something else non-military. In fact Boromir was probably going to be more use to everyone than _I_ was once he got fitter.

"Good." He smiled and reached up to smooth his beard, licking his fingers, very carefully grooming it, which made the white in his beard more obvious and made me re-evaluate Ori's age as the 'youngest'. He seemed young but he _did_ have grey in his beard and creases under his eyes and around his face.

Maybe he wasn't the youngest after all.

I focused on the road ahead now, silent, focusing once again on lifting heavy foot over pebble. Why did small rocks suddenly seem so big and feet so heavy when you were tired?

I sighed and focused.

"One step at a time, Lass." Gloin called from somewhere behind me, close enough clearly to hear me sigh, and I nodded. That same voice then called, "Same to you, Master Bilbo- just one step at a time."

"Got it." Bilbo sighed as well. He appeared right beside me. Bit of a surprise- I hadn't heard him coming _at all_ where as the Dwarves were obvious to me with their big crunching boots on road. Bilbo leaned heavily on a staff, his hand white as he grasped onto it, his eyes fixed purely on the road. "One step... at... a time."

He had to duck around one too high for him to step over, squeezing in before me, muttering, "Excuse me..." as he did.

"No problem." I sighed and focused back on my own feet. I added, quick, "It sometimes helps to look back. Makes the effort seem more worth it."

We'd come so high up. Rivendel was far below us now, as were those hills, and the landscape so littered with rock that even bushes had long since stopped growing along the roadside. Only the stubborn spiky grasses seemed to still be able to find a pocket of dirt here and there.

"Does it?" Bilbo paused, gazing back a moment, and he breathed out. "Dear me... look at that."

"I know."

"We've barely come far at all. Feels like we should be on top of the Mountain by now." His face fell, he turned, and continued to trudge on with a slower heavier step.

I didn't remember Bilbo being so pessimistic.

I raised my eyes to the sky, sighing as well, mostly out of exasperation at Bilbo's pessimism. I found a eagle diving across the cloud strewn blue sky, a beautiful large bird that swooped low enough for me to see a white and brown wings, an eye fixed on each of us as it passed by across the rocky landscape.

"Beautiful." I muttered.

Kili paused beside me, gazing up, the only Dwarf who seemed to not have any sort of real beard. He raised his hand to his forehead as he watched the eagle as well.

"It is." He agreed quietly. "Good sign."

"Is it?" I didn't really know about good signs... but okay then. I made a mental note to ask Kili about his beard... when I had more breath.

Later.

"Come." Kili turned, smiling at me, and I had to admit there was a definite set of good looks in the young Dwarf that amused me. Maybe he wasn't all Dwarf... which would explain why he was more interested in hair than beard.

Still I wasn't stupid or rude enough to ask that.

Boromir had glanced back behind as well, eyes more on Bilbo than on the eagle, but as we turned he turned and started back up the slope.

The other Dwarves had turned to look, mostly less pessimistic than Bilbo, and only Thorin didn't. The stubborn Dwarf continued to trudge ahead of us, his eyes ahead, his attention constantly fixed on one thing alone. He didn't have to say a word for me to assume that he wasn't happy with any of us taking a moment to look backwards... maybe it was the way he'd stiffened, or the way his feet walked a little faster, like he was trying to make an example.

If I wanted to be honest... I wasn't sure I _liked_ Thorin all that much.

No more pretty eagles as the land slowly, achingly, turned away from the sun and towards the darkness. Sweat, heavy legs, heavy arms, and a sore back that made every movement so difficult that by the time we had reached the path over the mountain that it took a mental effort just to raise the leg high enough so that the boot didn't scuff.

Every time my boot did scrape the floor, Boromir was there, back in his sadistic training mode. Violent as ever. Or maybe he was trying to save the boots... because they wouldn't last long if I kept scraping them across the ground. These painless knocks over an arm, or a shoulder, also served as a good 'snap out of your attempts at napping while walking' technique. So I didn't mind at all.

The weather changed fast though. The sun was soon gone now, great clouds chased across the sky by a wind that blew across the snow of the Misty Mountains, bringing a chill that had us all quick to pull on gloves, cloaks and hoods.

It was still late afternoon by then- by the time we'd really reached the kind of road I was expecting. There was a drop to one side of it, shrub and forest very far down below, with an unforgiving stone slope to the other that very clearly would throw bolder or stone at us from above at any point without warning,

Still- it didn't seem high enough. I couldn't explain it. The Misty Mountains still seemed far away, they still seemed higher than us, and although it did look like a road... it still looked like we had a lot of slope still to go. Some of the bushland had reappeared too- there were shrubs here and there, some scraggly looking trees trying to cling to the edge of the road where they hung over the edge, and grass made for an uncomfortable prickly area between the rocks.

This was just the start of a path. I guessed we had to go further.

We paused there at the start of this path, Gloin starting a fire somehow with wood he must have collected on the path up to the road, and huddled around the fire as that same cold wind continued to buffer against our cloaked bodies.

I huddled between Bifur, who seemed to have taken some kind of shine to me, and the Dwarf known as Dwalin, the bald headed Dwarf who seemed to be one of the only ones who actually was trained with a weapon. Then again... what did I know about Dwarfish culture? Not a hell of a lot. Maybe they all got training despite their job title.

"Here." Dwalin batted away Bombur's hand and held out food for me. "Eat."

"Thanks." I took the meat, deciding I could ignore Dwalin's filthy fingers today, and took a bite of the salty cured meat. It wasn't good... but it was going to give me energy. I took a drink of water as well.

"Goes down well, doesn't it?" Balin smiled across the fire at me as he took a bite.

"More salt than meat." Fili examined his meat.

"Quit complaining. At least we got food. Nothing to hunt for miles." Gloin had wet his fingers, I noticed, and was grooming.

No... not just him.

They all had started.

Boromir and I exchanged looks, half amused, and half in disbelief that they had energy at all, as one by one the Dwarves started to _groom_. Around the fire. Combs came out, beard decorations came out, and the group of Dwarves ignored us as they started to wet and comb their beards and hair to perfection. They even helped each other- at one point I saw Kili squat down beside Fili, braiding his hair, totally serious and totally silent. Bofur was helping Nori shape his hair into a beautiful point... with some kind of ...cream.

All righty then.

Here we were, just a metre from a thousand foot drop... or something along those lines... that would shatter us in ten seconds, and the Dwarves were having a grooming session.

I tried to not smile or laugh. Dwarves probably had massive egos... and maybe the way they styled their hair was a matter of great pride or something. Who knew.

I focused on eating.

Bilbo had fallen asleep, huddled up in his cloak, his face very pale and damp with rain that had blown under the protection of his hood. The poor little guy looked exhausted.

"Wendy..."

Boromir surprised me as he came around, Dwalin gone helping Gloin, and held out a knife. "I have no mirror- can you shave me?"

"Shave you?"

"Don't shave off your beard." Bofur, the Dwarf with the floppy 'wing' hat, spoke up. "Waste. Grow it out."

I stared at the knife. Oh... that was a bit frightening. Scraping a knife over Boromir's face. He did kind of need a shave but... "I honestly have no idea how to do that, Boromir..."

"I can do it." Bilbo's weary voice offered. He opened one eye and held out a hand. "I know how."

"Do Hobbits need to shave?" Ori asked. He was trying to shape the hair on his head.

"Would explain why he's had no hair on his face all this time." Kili responded.

"You can talk, beardless-Dwarf." Bofur grinned at Kili.

I wanted to ask. God... did I want to ask. Why on earth didn't Kili have a beard? I chickened out... I really didn't want to get on anyone's bad side. Was it because he was young? Fili, his twin, didn't have much of a beard either. Neither did Thorin, now that I thought about it, and I wondered if Dwarves really needed or wanted beards all the time...

Maybe they just wanted pretty hair.

Kili shrugged, combing his hair carefully, a chunk of the salted meat in his mouth as he slowly chewed his way through the tough strip of meat.

Balin was done long before the others, carefully sliding a comb into a pouch on his belt, and he nodded at me as I caught his eye.

I flushed, aware that it was probably really obvious how much I was staring, and gazed down.

"Here, lass." Balin took out the comb. "Need to borrow it?"

"I … I guess it would be nice." I admitted.

"I'll help you." Balin rose heavily, coming across, and to my utter surprise he started to comb my hair.

I sat there, kind of stunned, still with half my food ignored as Balin ran the comb through my hair with surprising tenderness. He was touching the hair as he went, clearly admiring it, something that … If someone had said 'Hey, Wendy, what do you think you'd do at the end of a long hard hike with dwarves?' I would not have guessed this.

"Nice hair. Got a golden tone to it." Balin commented.

"Aye- I noticed that in the sunlight. Like threads of red and gold." Oin agreed. "Looks plain in the shadow or in the dark, but when you walk in sunshine, it brings out the gold tones."

Oh bloody hell.

I mean, they were kind of right, and I kind of liked being in sunshine because of it. Maybe I did have a slightly vain side as well when it came to hair. It was pretty ordinary, really, a normal dark blonde bordering on medium brown, but I'd started to lighten it with some kind of 'natural lemon lightening cream' that had made all those natural highlights appear. Legolas had liked it as well.

"Look- see how the fire also brings it out." Balin held out the hair.

Oin stood up, peering down, nodding as he carefully twisted his beard up into a curve under his jaw. " I see."

"Nice to have gold hair. I noticed many Elven women and human women have it." Balin dropped it and started to comb, once again, gentle. "Shame I did not meet a woman with such colour."

"Aye- would marry her then." Fili agreed. "A dwarven women with golden threaded hair."

Maybe it was the gold that was interesting them. Dwarves did seem to be obsessed with the stuff. I was still embarrassed though, even more so when I felt his fingers start to braid, and realised I too was getting … Dwarf groomed.

Oh boy.

They left me with just a couple, complete with little metal weights, before Balin had rested down beside me. It _was_ touching though.

Thorin, ever the joyful Dwarf he was, had not spoken a word. He'd groomed himself, started to eat, and ignored us as he stared into the fire.

It surprised me when he raised his eyes to meet mine, no smile but no frown either, just a calm even stare that had us both locked there.

"I think-" He said softly, eyes on me and then on each of the company in turn, "-it may be wise to rest close. The road is perilous, soon will be wet with rain and we should only attempt it with rested legs."

I had the strangest sense that... maybe he'd partly decided that for my sake. I dismissed it, it seemed too egotistical to expect Thorin to do so, but the feeling was there as he made his choice. Maybe he was considering the limits of all his Company... not just me... because I wasn't the only one tired.

"I agree." Balin nodded. "Not here though."

"No- but we may find somewhere to shelter from the wind. Rain will come overnight." Thorin gazed up. "There was an area a little way back I remember."

I felt a stab of anxiety at that. Was this the point we would … find a cave? Goblins and horrible things waiting for us? Boromir shook his head, when we met, a subtle shake that only Bilbo seemed to catch. Not surprising... he was trying to shave Boromir's face.

"Careful." He complained.

"Sorry." Boromir gazed back out.

So maybe not. I didn't know enough about this adventure to know if they were supposed to rest yet or not...

"Put out the fire." Thorin rose heavily. "We must stay hidden in these parts- and we are warmed enough. It will be an early start- so let us not delay the rest any longer."

Gloin nodded, standing, and started to stomp on the fire with his boots. It didn't take much to get it out on the rocky path. He didn't toss it over the ravine, like I'd have expected, but instead carefully spread it out.

"The rain will cool the stone and the wind scatter the ashes." He explained, meeting my eyes, as if he understood why I was confused.

"Oh, okay."

"Come on." Kili held out a hand.

I let him help me up, so stiff and sore,and the group of us followed Thorin down the path till we found a small shelter against the wind, There, huddled against one another, we made camp and it was there that the rain and the dark of the night really set in.

* * *

A/N

Borrowed from a FB friend:

_1) This is a draft. There is passive voice and a probably a fair bit of clunk going on. That's not important. For me this was an exercise in getting a story out of my head and onto paper as soon as possible._

_2) There may be plot holes. I wrote this without thinking too closely about the wider story or the loose threads that needed tying up._

Basically: This stuff is all pretty rough, pretty sad looking from an editor's POV, and it will need rewriting. So please keep bringing in suggestions where it needs work, ect. I actually look forward to editing Another Life once I've caught up with the second Hobbit film... and every chapter worth of reviews will always be looked at while I'm editing. :)

But I don't mind if you just want to leave positive reviews. In fact I love them. They provoke me to write more, faster, and help the whole thing roll!


	8. Stone treking Stone Stone!

"Wendy."

We'd been walking for an hour on the second day, Boromir quiet right up to this point, but now he appeared at my side at the very back. He nudged me and asked, "If the White man summoned her to Rivendel- why did she come via the East Road to be there for us?"

He didn't say names, I supposed because he didn't want the Dwarves to know they'd been there, but I understood. Saruman and Lady Galadriel.

"I ... I don't know." I wasn't sure what he was talking about anyway. "Did he?"

"Aye- do you not recall? In the..." He paused, leaving the word out, but I had to assume 'movie', "...well, he was the one that asked her to come. Was he not?"

I thought that might have been right, yes. I slowed my walking a little to match Boromir, the two of us in the middle of the spread out company, voices low. I considered that now. Yeah. I kind of did recall Saruman saying he'd been the one to ask her there. "I guess... she knew."

"How? How did she know to come in armour? Elves do not, if the stories are true, normally go around in such heavy garments." Boromir seemed troubled, he was staring up at the Mountians ahead, and added in his soft near-whisper "Do you not think that a little strange- that he woudl ask her to come? Perhaps he asked her to come by way of the East Road when she could simply have come North?"

"I ... I don't know. I guess so. I don't know a lot about wizards and Elves baffle me- I never know why they do half the things they do."

"But you are an expert, are you not?"

"Boromir- I don't understand my own husband half the time." I responded, a little amused, shaking my head. "Not an expert on Elves at all."

Boromir paused at that, a pause in his step, and he had to take a few to catch up. He grasped my arm and stared at me. "You're unhappy with him?"

I shook my head, pausing to answer only to breathe more oxygen in, and after a moment to gather air again I answered, "No- I don't mean that. I'm not unhappy. Not at all. Just that we don't need to-" Another deep breath in, exhale, I wasn't quite used to all this talking while walking yet, "-need to understand each other all the time. It just works."

Boromir went silent, walking alongside me on the road, his eyes on the path ahead.

"Maybe she saw us." I suggested. "Maybe... maybe the East Road is safer."

"It would be at that, yes, but it is a far longer route to take. I did it myself from Gondor." Boromir agreed. "Nor does she seem like one who needed a safer route to take."

"Neither did you- but you did it anyway."

"I got lost, my horse died, and I ended up having to ask where I was and trade for a new horse. It was the fastest route when I found myself once again." Boromir shrugged a little.

"Sorry-" Bilbo spoke up, suddenly, and we both realised he was literally walking right behind us. Neither of us had heard a single step he'd made all this time. "Did you say Wendy is married to an Elf?"

"What?"

Oh bugger. Was it my imagination or did most of the Dwarves suddenly get a bit colder towards me? I got several glances backwards and none of them were particularly friendly.

"Hid that from us, didn't you?" Dwalin grunted.

"I didn't hide it- I just ..."

"She does not want to speak of him in front of me." Boromir spoke up. He glanced at me, checking with me, and when I didn't interrupt him he added, "For I am sometimes grateful."

"Why?"

"Should have just married each other." Kili muttered. "If you don't like her Elf husband..."

"Better a man than an Elf any day." Bofur agreed.

An awkward silence fell over the two of us at that. Yeah. THat was ... a little too close to what had happened.

"Well-" Boromir said slowly, and not for lack of breath, "-twas something we did consider."

I smiled, somewhat forced, the memory of it ... a little uncomfortable. It was true. I ... still didn't quite understand what had been going on in our minds at the time. It had been a confusing time. "We did."

"Oh." Ori realised, sudden, as he stared at the two of us. "Oh- your baby. It's the Elf's baby, isn't it?"

Another awkward silence, another glance between myself and Boromir, because yeah. That was also true. I felt totally flustered all of a sudden- all caught out in ... premarital sex and stuff. Oh bugger.

"I think you're touching a sensitive topic there." Kili whispered, voice loud and clear, leaning forward towards Ori.

"Oh... sorry."

"Point is-" I tried, "-that I guess I didn't see it as a big thing. Like I said- I don't understand Elves half the time anyway."

"You wouldn't want to. You cannot trust them." Gloin shook his head as he swapped his axe from one shoulder to the other. "Least he married you when he got you with child."

"He's a good Elf." Boromir tried.

"Won't convince any of us of that, lad, wouldn't even bother trying." Balin spoke up. He glanced backwards at me. There was... an air of sympathy in his face, as he examined myself and Boromir, and I got it. The others were looking at the two of us with the same expression.

"Not with her Elf husband, is she?" Oin stated.

"No. She is with the man she considered marrying- and Dwarves." Kili grinned at that, a big grin, shooting a look at his twin.

"Even an Elf's wife cannot stand being in his company." Fili remarked.

"Dwarves do make for better company." Nori spoke up.

Oh bloody hell. I sighed, shook my head, and tried to walk. The Dwarves kept glancing back at us, a cross between amusement and pity, but at least... the coldness was fading a little. We were in Middle Earth. When a woman got married she probably married the father, whether she liked him or not, and although I really hated that culture... right now it seemed to be smoothing things over without barely any effort from my part.

"Legolas is a good man- one I admired." Boromir tried again. He seemed a little flustered now, muttering, "Sorry- should have worded things better..." as he shuffled forward. Away from me.

"Legolas, is it?" Bofur grinned. "Do we know one?"

Thorin seemed to hesitate, I was sure I saw his step falter, but also Dwalin and Balin also seemed to tense. Neither them said anything if they knew who he was. They might not have- only the King of Mirkwood seemed to be well known. Elves tended to hide their children as long as they could.

"Sorry." Bilbo moved to my side now, bare feet still perfectly silent on the rocky road, muttering, "Didn't know it was a secret."

"It's not. I didn't plan on hiding it- I just ... didn't want to talk about it." I responded.

They heard our exchange, the Dwarves, but I suspected that what I'd said only confirmed whatever story they'd decided to put together in their head from what they knew. I could see where they were heading with this... Woman and man apparently having discussed marriage, woman got pregnant with Elf's child, Elf and woman married, and now woman and man were running off to join the Dwarves when it was fairly clear most Elves opposed what the Dwarves were trying to do.

I hadn't married him for that. I wasn't going to say that though- I didn't want the Dwarves to dislike me any more for 'Elven connections'.

Boromir thankfully didn't say another word either, even when Bofur grabbed his shoulder and told him, "You have our sympathy."

"No joke there." Gloin muttered.

Thankfully... the Dwarves moved on from this topic pretty quickly when neither of us said anything else. They didn't kick me out either. I just decided to be glad it hadn't gotten more private or detailed.

I had expected the journey to basically... just happen. Should have known better, of course, as this wasn't the first time I'd been trying to walk over the Misty Mountains.

At least this time I wasn't alone.

We spent most of the day surrounded by great Mountains, they still seemed to stretch on forever in a winding road of impossible length and confusing forks backwards and forwards.

Thorin seemed to know the direction somehow. When we came to a fork- sometimes between two obviously large roads and some that were tiny- he seemed to know the right direction. Balin and he would occasionally pause there, or one of the other older Dwarves would come up to have a quick discussion, but we seemed to never get lost.

Pretty grateful about that too.

We walked from sunrise, very early in the morning, with the occasional pause when we came across water or puddles deep enough to take water from. I didn't know how they kept drinking it without sanitising it- I kept using those water purification pills that I'd been sent here with and even with those I felt anxious about the water.

There was occasionally food passed backwards and forwards down the row, the thirteen Dwarves sharing what they had with us, and we would in turn share the lembas with them _without_ telling them that it was Elven made. It was appreciated. Bilbo in particular seemed to like the lembas bread.

That was nice- the sharing of what we had- but it wasn't the highlight of the two days of walking uphill. Oh no. We had other wonderful things. The daily grooming routine seemed to involve myself and Boromir now. I would end up with some kind of braid or two, which didn't just make me pretty, but it also seemed to help while walking as it kept hair out of my face. Boromir didn't escape the attention either- before we knew it, he was sporting two very Nordic looking braids in his short hair.

Muscular aches were also a Company complaint- we all had blisters under our boots. Even the most seasoned Dwarf was not immune to that joy. Sweat made us all stink, we all had to vanish to use the bathroom, and I just had to accept by the third morning of walking uphill that I could no longer bury my 'waste'. Couldn't happen.

We had wound backwards and forwards, up and down, sometimes going along the Mountains instead of ahead, and there were times when Thorin or one of the others spotted Orc and we had to hide.

I didn't remember that from the movie. It was tense, as there was very little places to conceal ourselves, and at one point we waited for a good three hours before we decided it was safe to continue onwards. They seemed to vanish into the Mountains as quickly as they appeared... and they never seemed to notice us. I guessed not many people passed this way- they weren't looking.

All of that was peanuts compared to the shower of stone.

The rain had continued on and off, the warm summer sun appearing between, and this caused other headaches as we wound our way up the road. The road itself was fairly narrow most of the time, two dwarves side by side could safely walk, but no one did. We all walked single file as close to the edge of the Mountain as we could... because more often than not a very large chunk of stone would come flying down the hill, loosened as the snow was melted by the hot sun, and everyone was on edge.

Some of them fell in front of us, or behind, and some of the stupid things nearly knocked a head off. I might have sworn it was some Wizard's malicious attempt, like in the War of the Ring, but the honest truth was that it was natural. Just what apparently happened when the sun melted snow- it loosened stones caught in ice.

Or something.

It was surprising though- how cheerful the Dwarves had been for the three days. While my mind trudged over all kinds of depressing things, my family, wondering about my kid's first day at school, and whether I had done the dishes or not, they sung.

They sung everything. Songs about family, about gold, about their Mountain, they sang about the dragon, and about their ancestors adventures. Quite a few songs about gold actually, or if not gold, gems and other wondrous jewels. It was strange at first to me- I wasn't used to people just singing like this. Openly. Particularly men.

I liked it though. It did make the journey easier. And on the second day Boromir started to sing as well, singing old songs I hadn't heard for a long time, or sometimes even songs from my world. The Dwarves were particularly amused by the song 'Don't worry, be happy'. I joined in with that one- had to admit singing, even while panty and breathless, did make things a little less achy.

Although- we all had to half-whisper everything we sang. With the rocks falling on our heads everyone was a little paranoid about sound.

Everyone seemed exhausted by the end of the third day, a little disheartened by the fact that we still weren't anywhere near the exit out of the heights of the mountains. No one was all that relaxed- we'd all agreed it LOOKED like a safe place from falling stone but who could tell? No one knew if a big bloody rock would fall on us while we were trying to rest.

"How much further?" Surprisingly it wasn't Bilbo complaining. It was Dwalin, the big bald headed Dwarf with his big axe, and he tore into the salted meat with a surprising amount of energy given how exhausted we probably all looked.

"As far as it takes to walk, I imagine." Balin responded. He still lay on his back where he'd collapsed, gazing up, head on one of the packs that had been dropped. "At least it's stopped raining."

"Better not risk a fire though." Thorin gazed out into the darkness. "Keep voices low- we don't want attention."

"I was hoping for something warm..." Ori sighed. He slumped down and started to tug off his boots, cringing, sliding them to one side as he examined his sweaty feet. "There's three today."

"New ones?" Bofur came across. He too tugged off his boots. "Mine are all old."

"I think they're old- but they decided to have a baby in the middle." Ori responded as he twisted the bottom of his foot up towards his face.

"I got a new one. It has blood in it." Kili informed them all. He held out his foot, wriggling his big toe, a big red lump standing out as 'sweaty foot smell' joined three other feet.

I realised, as I sunk down nearby, that they were talking about _blisters_.

Boromir was standing, attention half on us, but he had his attention out to the Mountains more than us. I wasn't sure why he was still so energetic. That was something I could say for him- that even though he was still reasonably unfit, still a little pot bellied, over the past three days of walking the _old_ Boromir had really started to come back. Oh, we'd seen hints of him before now, glimpses of his old confidence and strength behind Boromir's sadness, but he seemed to be coming out in full force now.

"You want to keep first watch?" Oin, the old grey-bearded Dwarf approached Boromir, who nodded. "Good. I need a rest."

"I have some energy yet." Boromir shrugged.

He hadn't taken long to win their respect. Not surprising. The man's confidence with his sword and experience on the road probably stood out like a sore thumb. Thorin had assumed otherwise probably because of his weight and clothing... but even Thorin appeared ...although I could never quite tell with that Dwarf... to have some respect for Boromir now.

I wasn't sure how they felt about me. I supposed they were waiting to see what I could do if we had to fight. I'd kept up and that was about all that was obvious.

But I had provided one other set of help which they'd all clearly adored. I'd started to use the first aid kit last night on blistered feet. Legolas had packed a blister kit in with the first aid kit. It showed how much he'd learnt about humans... or perhaps he'd started to see what Dwarf feet started to look like after a lot of walking after his time with Gimli. He'd had hundreds of years with him to discover it.

I'd only started because at some point Kili had stabbed a blister on his foot, maybe even before I'd met him in Rivendel, and it had very clearly become infected. One look at it and I went into Mum Mode- had Kili sit down, cleaned it out, and covered it. Next thing I knew several other Dwarves had stuck their feet in my direction with similar problems. They shouldn't have been popping blisters with dirty knives in the first place!

It had seemed to smooth over any last prickly feelings about my husband, thankfully, because any woman who was willing to help a Dwarf's stinky feet had to be on their side.

I hoped that was the impression I was giving. They had pretty rank feet.

"Do you need a sleep first, Wendy?" Ori asked. He seemed hesitant.

I was surrounded by five Dwarves and one Hobbit now- Fili, Kili, Ori, Bombur, Nori and Bilbo, all waiting for their blister treatment. It was all I could offer, I was too exhausted to keep watch during the night, and it seemed to be a good exchange. I shook my head, breathed in slowly, and responded, "It's okay. I can help."

One by one... or really two by two... I treated their new blisters with what I had. Wipe with alcohol swab, clean the area, wipe pin with new swab, pierce the side of the blister and squeeze fluid into toilet paper... then cover it up. With Kili's blood blister I just covered it. I didn't want to mess with that.

It might have been a little gross, particularly when the blister pus came out, but honestly... I had seen so much worse since becoming a mum that I honestly had started to filter it out naturally. The Dwarves really didn't get much of a blister anyway, a little lump here and there, their boots more the cause than the road.

"It makes walking a lot easier. Thank you." Bilbo said quietly, as I finished with his foot, making sure the new blister on his heel was padded properly.

"It'll heal and toughen up." Hopefully. I slid back, sighing as the last of the feet was done, and started to wrap up the things in a new plastic bag. We couldn't bury it here or leave it behind... so I had to carry it. Bit of a downside to the whole medic duty- carrying the waste too. "The other one looks better."

Bilbo nodded as he stared at his feet. He didn't get blisters on his sole like the Dwarves did, no, he tended to get them on the side of his feet where the softer skin met what seemed to be a rough padded layer along the soles. That must have been especially painful- the blisters seemed to go quite deep into the tender skin.

Bilbo sighed as he leaned against his pack, shifting to one side to toss a small stone out of his way, and leaned back.

"Don't suppose you have a handkerchief in that pack?"

"I don't think I do, sorry." I rubbed 'no water' alcohol stuff on my hands to clean them, only stuff I had for the job, and leaned back on my pack as well. I had a lot of stuff but not that.

"Wendy-" Boormir shuffled over. He smiled faintly, grasping my hand a moment, muttering, "About what was said several days past..."

"It's fine." I responded quietly. "Just let it sit. We'll talk about it another time. After all- I think I owe you a meal at my home when this is all over."

I had nearly said 'owe you a beer', such a typical Aussie thing to say, and I was relieved when I caught myself just in time.

"Aye- you do. And I will look forward to seeing him again and seeing your child." Boromir grasped for my pack.

"What are you doing?"

"Shifting some weight. You seem to be carrying it a little to heavy- would you mind if I repacked it? I also..." Boromir peered inside, "...will swap some things I do not need. I can carry some heavier things- and you may need more to help heal others."

"Yeah... you might be right."

He was trying to make up for it. I got it. I nodded as food started to get passed around. If that was what made him feel better... good. Maybe it was a good distraction for him.

We ate, more of the dried foods, and slept as best we could huddled in amongst each other. Sometimes someone would get up to pee or poop, including myself, and I'd even started to get used to having to do that near them. Couldn't change it up here.

God. I really missed baths. I missed showers most of all though. Hot water, good pressure, easing and massaging sore muscles... I dreamed of it more than anything else.

The next day we set off, bellies pretty empty, feet sore and tender in places, but luckily not flattened by any big stones.

The weather was making things worse though. The sun was out, very hot, but it was joined by cloud and by winds that made the clouds race across the sky at speeds I wasn't sure I'd ever seen clouds move at before. This made the 'stone shower' a little more drastic than the past two days combined.

We were taller than the Dwarves and more than once Boromir or myself was yanked backwards or shoved sideways as a stone the size of a wheelbarrow came tumbling down the cliff and nearly knocked us off the Mountain.

"Thanks..." I muttered, flustered, as Thorin himself hoisted me backwards as yet another bolder came tumbling down across the path. Not that big this time... just a collection of smaller stones that ranged from pebble to corgi sized... but it was impossible to predict.

"Think nothing of it." Thorin responded. Mere minutes later Thorin's arm was right there again, grabbing for Bilbo in front of me, hoisting us _both_ backwards.

This time it was several small corgi worth of boulder. It would have broken something _and_ knocked us both off the side without any disruption to its speed whatsoever.

"This is... not so exciting." I tried to joke.

"It's a little _too_ exciting." Bilbo responded. He stared nervously towards the Mountain, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the sunshine, his hand trembling. Poor hobbit.

"We need to keep moving. It cannot be too far across the Mountain. We must be as high as we can get along the path." Thorin moved in front of us, as did several other Dwarves, kicking several large stones off the edge of the ravine with a boot.

I sighed, breathed in slowly, and patted Bilbo's shoulder. "Okay. We can do it."

"One foot at a time." Boromir agreed. He had moved up to Bilbo's back. "More likely to hit us than you anyway- you're much shorter."

We started forward, Bilbo between us, and it occurred to me that Boromir was basically doing what he'd said he would do. Protect the hobbit. I wondered if he was trying to make up for all the shortcomings he'd had when we were supposed to be protecting Frodo... and it was possible knowing him.

Things got a little worse as the day went on. Today was the day the thunderstorms rolled in across the Misty Mountains.

We saw them coming from the moment the first light softened the darkness. Incredible clouds, towering high, the kinds of clouds I might have seen on facebook posted by storm chasers or something. They, as Nori muttered, did not 'bode well'.

Boy was he right.

The rain became torrents of water, and not just rain, but also the flooding water, stone and slushy snow pouring down the sides of the Mountains. The road became slippery, rivers of water cutting away dirt and some places we had to jump because the water was just so deep that it threatened to wash us over the side of the ravine. Rocks came almost on a schedule now, shaken loose by the thunder, and the road …

Well it no longer looked like a road.

It had been destroyed so much that it was barely a path. Boromir and myself, being the largest, pretty much hugged the side of the Mountain as our feet continue scraped the edge of the path and knocked gravel down into the ravine below it. More often than not we had to scoot sideways, once for a good twenty minutes or so, trying to cling to the Mountain with our hands as we stared at our feet- trying to keep an eye on our path but NOT the ravine.

I just had to remind myself to breathe. All. The. Time. Fainting would kill me. There was no safe place to fall... if I took one step forward during those narrow areas I would be falling through the air.

The hoods and the cloaks were basically useless in this weather, thunder striking Mountains or jumping from cloud to cloud, the hairs on my arms raised permanently from the feeling of electricity in the air. No one would EVER suggest walking on a Mountain in any thunderstorm... and _this one_ was a dozy.

"We should take shelter!"

"No..." Thorin shouted.

This exchange happened multiple times, an exchange made between most of the Dwarves (and Bilbo) and Thorin, and only I and Boromir stayed quiet. Not because we didn't want it... but because we knew it would happen and ...I wasn't sure about Boromir, but I was exhausted just staying on my feet. I also had half my attention on the sky- the rain was making the rock shower much worse.

Plus there was the _other_ problem. I was waiting for it. I was making sure I was right near the front, really for no other reason than I wanted to run for it (or scuttle sideways if needed) when those problems appeared.

This went on for hours. It was growing dark, far too wet and dangerous or any of us to stop for the night, and even Thorin-the-stubbborn was starting to look exhausted. He glanced back, gesturing to us, shouting through the sheets of rain and deafening wind, "Come on!"

"Come on yourself." I muttered. Got a mouthful of rain and dirt for it.

Even I wasn't expecting it- I was so tired by now that all my attention was simply on my feet. I saw Bilbo nearly fall, stones tumbling, one of the Dwarves- Dwalin, I guessed, grabbing him and dragging him backwards.

"We _must_ take shelter-"

I thought that may have been Thorin, at least I hoped it was, but the sheer volume of the storm made it near impossible to tell him from any of the other voices.

Rumbles and flashes in the sky cut out whoever had called and if they said more I didn't hear it. I stared down- staring up at the Mountains, the Mountains not just UNDER thunderstorms... but quite literally IN the clouds themselves- would have had me wetting myself right then and there.

Boromir caught on before I did, shoving me forward, and I found myself somewhere near the front of the pack all of a sudden.

"Careful, lass!" Someone called. I wasn't sure who- I was too busy clinging to the side of a _Mountain side_ to check.

"Sorry..."

"Look out!"

I only saw it briefly- a dark grey object coming out of the cloud.

A arm shoved me backwards, Ori's walking stick adding to the pressure, and I was pinned against a wall as something massive slammed into the Mountain above us. I clung to the stones, eyes half shut, the bolder as large as a bus breaking and tearing off stone chunks the size of cars, stone of all shapes and sizes crumbling and falling straight onto us, cutting face and bruising body as they fell all around us. It tore at the road halving its size.

"-ou alright?" Ori's voice asked, very quiet, almost pressed up against my head.

I didn't get a chance to answer, realising what this was almost at the same time Balin shouted it, my heart sinking.

"This is no thunderstorm, it's a thunder battle! Look!"

"It's both!" I tried to answer, petrified, really honestly wondering now if I had peed myself- I was so wet from the rain that it was impossible to tell. What did it matter which it was? It was there... and I was starting to freak out. Stone giants.

"Bless me- the legends are true!" Bofur exclaimed.

Boromir had taken a step out as well and...

He was taking photos.

I stared at him, totally stunned and angry with his absurd decision to take photos _at this time_, but I knew a phone when I saw one. Where the hell did he get one? How did he charge it? Why was I even caring right n-

"Look out!"

"Take cover- you'll fall!" Thorin shouted past us, as the ground shook, threatening to throw us from the path from the sheer movement of the stone giants.

I knew a second one had appeared... but I couldn't watch, I couldn't do it, my legs had turned to jelly and I was too panicked to really be able to look at what was going on. This had to be new. People couldn't survive this bullshit.

"What's happening?"

"Kili!" Fili's panicked voice rose up, and I turned to see there was a gap opening up between them, too far for either of them to grab the other one, and it was now that I saw …

Boromir was there too. On the other side. He shouted, his hair wet and half across his face, voice nearly lost in the storm and the crashing of stone, "Woman- _Focus!"_

Now I did look, as our ledge started to move, staring up at the very stone giant that I was now standing on... the wet stone barely giving us any traction to hang on, this great dark moving object that was threatening to throw us into the ravine just by standing. The body we stood on swung about, I caught the motion of fists crashing into massive stone bodies above, but honestly all I could think about was digging my fingers into the cracks just a little more- it just took the slightest slip and I would be scrambled eggs on the Mountain ravine floor.

God. Why did they have to fight? Why couldn't they just hug?

"Oh god..."

We all cried out in fear, as the stupid knee swung sideways, the sheer motion itself enough to throw us off when it found the end. It found something, I was flung several feet forward, stumbling a little as I crashed into someone's back.

"Go, go,go!" Hands pushed at me, hard, Kili right behind me.

I wasn't sure where we were going, all the memory of this moment gone, but when someone shouted 'Go!' over the din of the storm and the battle and charged forward, I followed. We ran for it, boots slipping on wet stone and gravel alike, stumbling as we charged for the next part of the path...

To my utter relief, I found it, tumbling into the behind of a Dwarf as I fell onto the path, and quickly scrambled to my feet.

The side of the mountain was clung to, fingers digging into cracks, and then I turned to see what was happening behind us .They were still on the other knee, Boromir as well, as it swung past us, the look of sheer terror on their faces quick to smother the relief. We grabbed out for them, I even tried, but they were far too far away to get any grip on us or visa versa- and the motion probably would have torn us from the stone ledge anyway. Boromir and I caught each others eyes, his hand grasping onto a knife he'd dug into the stone, but he looked more afraid than I expected.

Their screams were barely audible over the storm, over the roar of the great giants, or the crash of the stone.

"Look out!"

A fist crashed just above us, sending even more rocks, painful things that crashed into body and head, and we all huddled against the wall as a great block of Mountain from the stone giants preceded the very punch that beheaded one.

The knee swung past, again, as the body of the headless giant collapsed, and we watched in horror as it slammed into the Mountain side.

I knew they would be all right, I had seen it, and yet...

"No!" Thorin screamed, agony in his voice, our eyes going to the body of the stone giant as it fell backwards. "No, Kili!"

They rushed forward, I was caught along in the momentum, and …

I had to admit I was so relieved to find everything as it was suppose to be.

They were all there. On top of one another, looking pretty sore, even Boromir sprawled over Dwarves with his knee in Bombur's crotch.

"We're all right. We're alive..." Balin called, disbelief all over his face, and heavily he got up. "Bit banged up though..."

"Whre's Bilbo? Where's the hobbit?" Bofur called.

Boromir seemed to snap out of it...

"There!" Ori called.

"Get him!" Dwalin moved forward, grasping for where poor Bilbo dangled from the edge of the cliff, the Dwarves trying to reach him.

Boromir moved forward as well, fast, well before Thorin could do the heroic attempt at saving Bilbo- and before I could say anything, Boromir had swung himself down onto that very same ledge Thorin was supposed to have used, grasping Bilbo by the belt, and hoisting him up.

The Dwarves grabbed him, dragging him up, Boromir grunting as he hoisted the heavy hobbit up.

He slipped.

It was so sudden, so unexpected, because I … I hadn't seen it coming. Thorin had slipped as well- but Thorin didn't fall.

Boromir fell. He _fell_, hands scrabbling for the side of the cliff, feet slipping on wet stone.

I lunged forward, grabbing for him, even though he was already out of my reach, and arms hoisted me backward. I fought, struggling, trying to lunge forward and … I didn't know.

"No..." I was strangely detached from my own voice, it sounded very loud, and yet I didn't feel like I was shouting.

"It's too late, lass!"

A heavy hand shoved me backwards into the wall, pinning me there, Thorin's eyes staring straight into mine. I had crouched down? When? I didn't know- but … there was geninue sympathy, anger, frustration, as Thorin stared at me, his mouth moving and something … I could't tell what straight away... being said.

"-late."

It's too late.

My brain caught up with it.

It was too late.

He'd fallen.

Boromir had fallen. It was too late. He'd done what he wanted to do, he'd protected the Hobbit finally, and then... scrambled eggs. That'd been how I'd just described it.

Pain took my breath away, a totally different pain to the aches, bruises and cuts, and I felt it threaten to swalllow me whole and overwhelm me.

Focus, woman. His last words to me.

I could feel eyes on me, all those eyes, the Dwarves waiting... waiting to see if I'd crack, if I'd become a liabilty, if I wouldn't be able to continue on with what I'd sworn I'd do... and I tried to focus. God. Grief had to wait, damnit, and I … I didn't know if I believed it.

I just was too chicken shit to look over the edge and find out if it was real.

"You with us, Wendy?" Balin appeared, voice gentle, but he did give me a little shake.

"I... I... I am." I tried, swallowing again, and stood up slowly. My legs were so weak, body shaking, teeth chattering for reasons other than cold.

He'd fallen.

Numbness was taking over suddenly, welcome numbness, and disbeleif. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Thorin responded. "Don't- just make it your reason to continue."

My reason.

I couldn't... I couldn't figure out how to react. I shut my eyes as I heard Dwalin's voice nearby.

"Nearly lost our burglar too." Dwalin commented, hand on Bilbo's shoulder, Bilbo looking as pale and shocked as I felt.

"He's been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come. He has no place amongst us. Dwalin."

A hand squeezed my shoulder, Thorin's hand, and then he was backing off. "We will scout ahead- seek a cave. Everyone else take a rest here until we return."

"Understood."

"I could help..." I tried. Goblin cave. Had to...

"No. You need a moment most of all." Thorin turned and strode away, Dwalin right behind, leaving us behind. "Wait here."

"We'll come."

Balin spoke up, sudden, and Thorin turned. He gestured to me slightly, adding, "Sometimes being busy is better..."

Being busy. Oh god. Don't say things like that. I couldn't face it right now- I had to somehow focus.

"All right. We'll walk ahead, but all come then."

Bodies rose, tired bodies, and for a sudden moment of panic and disbelief... I didn't want to leave. I wanted to wait here. For my friend. I wanted to check over the side, seek him out, or … or even wait here, because maybe he hadn't fallen. It was very childish but it was all my brain could think.

"Come on." To my surprise a hand grasped mine, a wet warm hand, Ori's hand coming from head. He glanced back at me from under his hood, this incredible gentleness to his face, and he tugged. "We're still here."

I nodded, swallowed, and continued on. I … didn't understand. I didn't. After all he'd come through, after all the deaths he'd avoided, after having done all that hard work fighting against alcohol for a new life... had he really only come here to do that? Fall?

Sometimes the only thing to do was to keep walking and to hope that at some point I would understand.


	9. Moments

Walking seemed like a good idea in theory. I was trying to focus, trying to think about what was to come, but this was not such a clever idea when I was trying to also fight the emotions that desperately wanted to come up.

The Dwarves were there, right there, and lucky they were. More than once I stumbled. Bad idea on this wet slippery rocky ledge- it was no longer worthy of being called any sort of road- and when someone suggested I take a moment to breathe... I had to agree.

"It's all right." Ori said quietly, gently, as I tried to apologise. "It really is."

"I'm fine. I just have too much going on in my mind- I guess I need to deal with it before I walk." I smiled weakly, wiping the damp out of my face, adding, "I can cope."

"I think I see a cave. You stop to think a moment and when we reach the cave, follow." Thorin grasped my arm. I was surprised by Thorin's tone. Even more so by the genuine sympathy in his face. I wasn't sure when we'd 'bonded'... perhaps that wasn't it at all... perhaps it was because he'd suffered. Maybe there was more to him. I didn't know. He gestured towards where there was a dark hole in the side of the Mountain before he was off, Dwalin behind him, the other Dwarves moving after them at a slower pace.

The moment I stopped I felt tired. That was it.

Tired.

"You want me to stay?"

"It's fine." I responded.

Ori nodded, eyes downcast now, and he moved away after the others.

I just needed a moment.

I needed... I needed... to think. The cave. I tried to get my mind working, tried to get back into action Wendy mode, but all I felt was sore, tired and numb. The cave. We had to rest, there was no getting around that, but the cave itself was a trap.

Was it okay to tell them that? Did we need to go through the Goblin Cave? Brushing the rain out of my face, finding fingernail sized stones under my hood, I tried to shake my wet hair free of the debris, one hand clutching hard to the side of the Mountain. For a moment, one 'Oh my god, we could avoid that bullshit' glorious moment, I thought maybe we COULD.

Then I remembered Bilbo and the ring.

No. We couldn't. There was no way around it, no way that would make sure everything happened as it was supposed to, and out of all the things I could screw up... changing the moment Bilbo found Gollum and the ring was possibly the worst thing I could ever do. Even if I ended up dying down in those Goblin caves I'd have to let it happen. Every single moment of it.

I was so afraid.

That was worst part. I was so afraid and with Boromir, somehow, I felt less afraid. Maybe it was only because he reminded me of everything we'd survived but...

A flash of movement caught my attention. I turned, seeking out the source, but found nothing more than another shower of stone somewhere further down the path. Stone, water and bruises. That was all these Mountains had. I didn't know what drew Dwarves to such hard dark places.

I followed the Dwarves now, seeking the cave, and for a moment I thought... wrong cave.

No- they were all there, in the dark, whispering amongst themselves. I'd noticed that most of them were in various states of undress, or perhaps re-dress from the motion around us, but no one except for Ori seemed all that concerned about my presence there.

"You all right?" Kili was near the door, half dressed, wringing wet clothing over the sandy cave floor. "We're changing into dry things."

"I'm fine." Sort of a lie. No. I wasn't. I was waiting for Boromir to swagger back in, all ego and 'Look at what I survived' and right now... that was all I was. Waiting. I supposed he'd suggested I do the same and I had to agree- I was trembling all over, the rain was cold, and I was soggy.

"Get changed. You'll get sick." Gloin confirmed what I suspected, turning away, muttering to himself in a tongue I didn't understand. Dwarvish I supposed. They didn't talk much in it around me. "Lie clothing down on the ground- it'll have to dry."

I nodded and moved carefully, one hand in front, the darkness of the cave making it hard to tell one space from another. After so long around them, I wasn't quite as shy about my body, but even still the darkness did provide a little comforting privacy. It also meant that seeking dry clothing in the pack took a little rummaging.

"We should wait for Gandalf..."

"No. The sooner we leave these Mountains, the better." Thorin's voice came across from nearby. "No cave is safe here- we leave as soon as the light permits and there'll be no argument."

"-ut I just want to know why Elves don't eat meat. Do you think they're sick?"

"Do you think this bruise looks like a face?"

"No- you cut the stone to the shape that comes natural, for the right shape already exists in the jewel-"

"Can't see it..."

I listened to the snippets of exhausted conversation around the cave as I undressed and wrung everything out. I recognised Thorin easily enough, but here in the dark, with everyone so quiet, so softly spoken, it was hard to tell the others apart.

Once I had changed into a new 'squeezy boob tube' thing, probably designed for archer women, into dry clothing, into trousers, as the dwarves called them, and into a new tunic, I felt a hell of a lot... drier. That was a kind of 'better' at least. Clothes were wrung out, thrown down, and I tugged out the other cloak. It would be as good a blanket as anything tonight.

My hair bothered me. It just... I couldn't explain it. I had been growing it since I'd given birth, hadn't had a haircut since then, and now... it was wet, it was knotted, and it reminded me too much of that time I'd spent pretending Boromir didn't exist.

I shuffled backwards in the dark while dragging the pack, resting against a wall in the edge, almost too tired to go through the effort of sitting down. The cave was fairly low- I had to bend down in most places- and it was clearly shallow with all parts of the cave lit by the flames. The layer of sand was the thing I found unusual- did all caves have that? I knew what was underneath it... but why hadn't the Dwarves questioned that? Were they just relieved to find a 'soft' floor for a change?

As my eyes drifted around the room, slowly, I saw where Thorin and Balin sat in quiet exchange in one of the far walls. They were speaking in soft hushed tones, a rolled up bit of paper in Balin's hands, but they weren't arguing.

Ori had curled up nearby as well, his quill and ink out, a journal in his lap. He was bent over it and so focused, so close to it in the dark, that his nose was almost touching the book. It was amazing he could see at all.

"We're leaving in the morning." Fili came to stand beside me. He sighed, stretched, adding, "Not waiting for Gandalf."

"I heard something about that. Was that the plan?" Was that what they had planned on doing? Wait for Gandalf here? "I guess the faster we get off this mountain the better."

I couldn't stop myself from whispering. It was just … I didn't know. With a throat swollen from emotions I couldn't face, with the threat right under my feet, I couldn't get my voice above a whisper. Maybe it was the way these caves felt, these Mountains, as if any sound that was louder than a whisper was _wrong_ somehow.

"Aye." Kili confirmed. He groaned as he sunk down, bones cracking, and leaned against his own pack. "I cannot move a muscle."

"Are you changed?" Gloin appeared, totally shameless, but completely uninterested as well. "Good. Thorin wants to talk."

"Wendy." Balin called, quiet, from one corner of the cave. He gestured to me and I approached them both.

I might not have been able to see them clearly but I did seem them clear enough to notice their physical reactions. Balin was tall, straight and very stiff. Thorin was closed off, his head tilted away, and as I approached, he crossed a leg across his lap in the dark.

Balin spoke first. "Lass- we know of your husband. We know the name and we know who his kin is."

"I didn't mean to hide that, honestly, it's just-"

"We don't need excuses. You were sparing your companion's feelings." Thorin cut in abrupt, voice sharp, like he was defying the 'stay quiet' mood most of us had gotten into. "Sit down."

I didn't want to sit. I sat anyway, awkward and stiff, finding the stone no more comfortable for all the sand scattered across it. "I was."

"We do not trust Elves. You are bonded to the son of the very one I dislike the most." Thorin turned onto me. He frowned at me, clear distrust coming out now, and added, "To the only son of the King of Mirkwood."

"Look- I've never met his kin. Never. I've met some from Rivendel, some from Lothlorien, but not Mirkwood. I don't know a thing about his father and I don't agree with whatever he did to you..." I responded, a little defensive, voice raising somewhat.

"Excuse me-" Dori appeared, offering us bread, bowing somewhat. "-but I have bread and cheese for us."

Balin, Thorin and myself did not speak as Dori handed out the dry bread and the cheese. Instead I tried to think. I had a bad feeling where this line of conversation was going to go and I … I wasn't sure I was going to agree with Thorin's conclusion.

I did try and figure out how I felt about that King. I didn't even remember what Legolas' father name was... and that was pretty slack, even I had to admit that, as in Elven law and 'common law' we were pretty much related now. Or would be.

Big ass dragon, Elven army, and even the Elves with their incredible skill might have been slaughtered. ...or … perhaps not. They had better eyesight than any other creature alive, better archery skills, and the dragon had a soft spot. I wasn't sure HOW I knew that, I just did, and it suddenly occurred to me that … perhaps they might have been able to kill him.

Maybe.

They hadn't even tried. I liked these Dwarves, I'd liked Gimli, and I suddenly did feel a little peeved that the Mirkwood King hadn't lifted a pretty manicured finger to help. I got it, I got that his people would be slaughtered, Mirkwood burnt, but … out of all the species when the skills were looked at the Elves were most likely, logically, to have done something to protect everyone else.

It bothered me a little.

"Look. I really don't like what he decided- I heard about it. I heard about all the deaths, all the people you loved and lost, and all the people of Dale..." For some reason I was suddenly emotional. The people they'd loved and lost. Now I...

"Lass, we know." Balin responded gently. "Your companion- his ancestor and most of the town was burnt, as was our own kin, and you loved him."

Loved him. Like he was a 'past' thing.

The ache in the back of my throat appeared, my eyes damp, and... I really wanted to cry now. I mean, it was possible he'd survived, and I was still trying to hang onto that hope. Boromir was a stubborn man. He wouldn't give up. Still...

"It doesn't matter how I felt about him." I responded quickly, trying to talk away those emotions, and the real fear that had come with Balin's way of saying 'loved him' instead of 'love him'. "You don't want me to come because of who I had a child with."

"No." Thorin was quick to answer. He seemed to soften somewhat. "I do not want you to come because Boromir was the warrior. You heal, I have seen that, but I would not ask you to continue on when it was Boromir you followed. Not us."

Was that true? Had I been following Boromir?

Maybe... but I was here now.

"I'm nothing like Boromir, I know that, he is-" The urge to say was rose, but I ignored it, trying to deny any possibility that he'd really... "-a good warrior. You hadn't seen him with a sword yet. I'm good with a bow. Plus I have seen things too. Fought in places too."

"A bow?" Thorin straightened in the dark. He gestured to Balin, sudden, muttering, "Then get the woman a bow."

"Got it."

"Don't worry- I'm completely taught without the help of Elves." I added quickly. Just in case they assumed that was... some other reason to dislike me. "It's something I can say I am good at. That's one more weapon, right? Can't hurt."

"Wendy." Thorin shifted, turning back towards me, sighing heavily. "You followed Boromir. We do not deny that you may have some skill, as few of us are warriors trained, but I have decided. It was your companion who led you along. He very well may have saved my life." Thorin blew on the hot bread now, pausing, quiet coming across. "You may leave us in the morning if you wish."

The entire room was listening. Everyone.

"Leave? I-"

"I owe him that gesture, placing himself in that position, for it may have been myself that had slipped and was lost." Thorin's voice was lower now, his eyes off to the side, and he took a chunk of the bread.

Could I really say that he wouldn't have? Why did Boromir have to fall when Thorin hadn't? Because … because the Dwarves were more protective over Thorin?

Balin returned and I felt something offered. A bow, reasonably large given the size of the dwarves, and arrows. I ran my fingers along it, slowly, feeling the craftmanship. Very plain, very strong, and it was a little smaller than was 'ideal' but … but it would work.

"Wendy- you _may_ decide to leave, you may take the bow with you, and we will not think worse of you, for you have suffered a loss. You could go by way of the Misty Mountain back to Rivendel, if you wished, or if you prefer, come with us to the Lake where your own kin may be. Your home is not close, is it?"

"No. It's pretty far away." I admitted. Bit too far to walk. Weariness fell over me now, the bread forgotten in my hand, exhausted.

"Then- there is Mirkwood."

"Hmph." I responded, sighing, muttering, "Even if I chose to stay there- trust me when I say the reception will probably be less than heart warming. He'll behave as if he's never seen me before in his life. Bad idea. If I left your Company- it wouldn't willingly be to Mirkwood."

Which was true. He hadn't met me.

Still- that seemed to give Thorin some extra reason to relax, his face softening just a tiny bit more, some of his guard coming down. He may not believe me fully but I suspected he would when he saw what I meant. If we made it that far.

"Then you have the night to decide between Rivendel, where you did seem comfortable, or to Lake Town."

I nodded, faint, confused. Should I... should I leave? I didn't want to now.

"If I want to come?"

"Then one extra weapon will be appreciated- as will your healing skills." Balin spoke up. He gestured at me, gently pushing my hand up to my face, adding, "You should eat that before it dries out more. The bread and cheese is not fresh."

I ate, the food sticking somewhat, the urge to sleep rising. With what was to come it was an absurd urge but my body didn't understand that it had to be awake soon... it was so tired. I was so wrecked, emotionally, physically and mentally.

"Why?" Finally he'd asked it. Thorin glanced at me over the remains of his food. "Why consider remaining for no pay?"

Fair bloody question. I wasn't sure.

"Because we decided." I had no better way to explain. I didn't know how. "I... Dale..."

"Was his quest, was it not? You are not related, therefore, it is not your problem."

"I guess when it's the problem of someone I care about, that makes it my problem. Plus... I … I heard tales. About your kin, about Dale, about all of it, stories so rich in detail that it was as if I could see them. Even of your own father and grandfather. So many stories that … that I suppose in a way I feel … a bit sad that it's gone." I wasn't sure how to explain it. It did make me a little sad, now that I knew Dwarves, now that I'd met these people, and I had to say I did like them. In some ways I liked their culture better than Elven culture, it was rougher, more open and honest, and they didn't conceal things behind silver tongues and expressionless faces. It was refreshing.

Dwarves would go extinct. One day they would die out, their numbers go, and they would just be another myth. Maybe they'd even influenced some of the mythology in my world. "I guess I'll sleep on it. Then decide."

"Then I will leave you to think." Thorin seemed to accept that. Maybe he didn't trust me, probably didn't trust anyone not of his own kin, but … he nodded. Took another bite as he stood, directing his gaze inwards, his voice soft as he repeated.

"Got it. I'm free to stay too?"

"You have signed the contract and are apart of the Company. Yes. You are free to stay and accept responsibility for your own life. Or you may leave, as may any in this room-" I swore I saw Bilbo flinch then, this motion nearby, as Thorin's voice raised slightly, "-and leave us to our quest."

Yeah. I was pretty sure the contract said as much.

The problem with the conversation being over was that now I had to face the … what had happened. I had to face it. I sat there a while, watching the Dwarves talk, and without something to argue or fight for I just … I didn't want to cry or be emotional. But I did. I really wanted to be angry, sad, furious with everything, and...

It wasn't logical- the urge that rose. My hair returned to my mind the more I sat there, the more I felt so … so exhausted, so angry, so unhappy, and then _that_ very specific urge rose. I wasn't sure why it did. Maybe it was because Boromir had seemed to always like my hair, maybe it was to hide my gender now that I was 'alone', maybe it was something else entirely, but after five minutes of trying to not cry, I took out my knife. I took it out, ignored Bilbo's shocked whisper of 'What are you doing?' and cut.

The blade was wonderfully sharp and it cut right through the hair. Thick long strands of hair fell. Large ones, long ones, the hair that I'd grown past shoulder blades... falling away. Cold metal of the blade suddenly was felt so clearly, so keenly, against my near-bare scalp...

It felt so good. I couldn't explain that logic, why cutting off all this wet hair I'd grown released so much grief, but it did. It was expressing how I felt... a symbolic gesture or something... and I... I could avoid it. For a little longer.

"What-"

The Dwarves noticed now, jaws dropping, and yet … they didn't seem half as shocked as Bilbo was. To my complete and utter surprise, Kili rose, came across, and took the knife.

"You're making a mess of it. You need someone to help with that."

How he saw in the dark, I wasn't sure, and I wondered if they … perhaps had better night vision than I did. Kili grabbed the knife, a comb appearing, and started to work with knife and comb.

"Stop that... why are you doing that?" Bilbo whispered, completely shocked, eyes wide. "Your hair..."

"I just … I just wanted to..." I muttered. My head was tilted back, Kili's touch surprisingly gentle as he grasped the knife and gently started to cut it short, the wet hair combed by his fingers as he tried to do it 'neatly'. "I don't know why. It's uncomfortable."

"Same reason Dwarves cut off our beards." Fili appeared. He knelt, gently gathering up the strands of hair, dropping them into a small bag. When he met my eyes there was real genuine sympathy there, even sadness, and he said gently, "Hair is a reminder of all the years it has seen. How we treat it- is how we treat our memories. When you need to release something, when you must move forward, it is time to remove the memory."

"Really?"

"That is how we view our beards and our hair." Kili responded. "You take that bag, all that hair, and when you're ready..."

"When you can face it. You remember it again." Fili finished for him.

"O... okay."

"We did the same with our beards." Fili was slow, his fingers gently brushing through the sand for hair, treating it with surprising respect. "When we lost our sister."

"Your sister?"

"She was beautiful. Born early but perfectly formed, fighting to live, and her skin the gentle hue of rose quartz." Fili breathed out slowly. "Not for long. Her skin turned blue, then grey, and..."

He drifted off, voice a little unsteady, Kili's sigh behind me clear in the dark. Not only them.

"Too many daughters of the Dwarves die in thus a manner." Balin's voice came out of the dark, quiet, sad, his motion of shaking his head visible as his white beard bobbed. "Too many."

"I'd been told that … that there weren't many Dwarven women..." I'd been told by Gimli that there was only one dwarven woman per three dwarven men- and that most Dwarves preferred jewels, gold and crafting to children.

"They die. Die at birth. We cannot explain why, nor can we seem to cure it, and so we accept it. Or we learn to." Balin said gently. "Kili and Fili are young- but they will see many another daughter fade away before she can walk the halls of her kin."

That was so sad. I went quiet, picturing my own child, and … god. Knowing that if I had a daughter she'd probably die before she could walk. How could they cope with it?

"We give our love to the gifts from our Mountains, from our tunnels, and move on." Gloin's voice spoke up. "If they are strong enough then we share these wonders, for our women have a sense of the jewels unseen and not yet mined, but if not... we give their ashes to the Mountain mines."

"I could not bear to loose a daughter."

"You think such a thing- but you will bear it. We all must if we choose to take a wife." Gloin muttered.

"Many do not." Balin responded from beside me.

"Not many women to marry as it is." Bofur muttered- recognisable by his hat.

Fili and Kili hadn't said a word. It must have been recent, this loss, and it explained why they seemed to only have the start of a beard.

Instead they focused on my hair, so gentle and careful, closer to me at this moment because they understood it. Loss. I felt 'held' without them having to say a single word.

When it was gone I felt a little better. As if everything I was trying to not feel, the guilt over ignoring Boromir for so long when he'd needed help, the sense of loss, the … the hurt and pain... it really was being 'cut and put away'.

When I could face Boromir, when I could really face all of this and not be sitting on Goblins, then... then maybe I could …

Not tonight though.

I ran my fingers through what remained, barely a centimetre if that of length, and it felt incredible. Light. Dry. Comfortable. No more problems, no more tangles, and no... no memories. Till I wanted to face them. Fili gave me the bag, his hands squeezing mine as I took it, and then he moved to rest nearby on the ground.

"I'm sorry about your sister..."

"She has gone to rest with the Earth." Fili responded softly. "As must we all."

"She was beautiful." Kili shuffled around. He found a space a little further away. "Like her skin was carved from Rose Quartz... the shadow of silver hair and beard... and _beautiful_."

I smiled at that, shutting my eyes, picturing her. Little dwarf baby, curled up in a blanket, hairy like her family, complete with a soft downy beard. Pink like roze quartz. Beautiful. It was a beautiful image.

Sleep shouldn't have been easy at all.

It was very easy. I only woke when Bilbo, who had been right beside me, started to shuffle around his pack.

Adrenaline surged when I realised what he was up to, then a kind of panic, because I knew what was to come. I reached up to brush hair out of my face, only finding short cropped hair now, the bag of hair away in the pack. Bilbo slid up as I moved, I reached out, grabbing my damp clothing and tugging the tunic back on. It was kind of wet but the sand had leached quite a bit of moisture away.

"What ya doing?" Ori muttered.

"Need warmth."

He just snorted, perhaps not even having woken at all, and rolled over.

I grasped my bag, tense, trying to stay 'calm' as Bilbo waited. He was waiting for me to fall asleep again. So I shut my eyes, trying to look asleep, all while peering out from under my eyelashes at the room. Bow? Check. Arrows? Check. Hoped I could grab them later. Out of all the things I'd lost in that pack, or things I had now, the only things I really wanted to keep with me were the weapons.

It took him about five minutes to build up the courage. Maybe it took longer than that, maybe shorter, I couldn't... I was too anxious, too afraid of what was to come, to really know. But as he edged towards the door, I knew it was starting, and I had to really fight the urge to tell everyone. Scream. Run out of the cave.

I could pee right about now. Walk out and pee.

When I moved, Bilbo stared at me, and our eyes met.

"I... I couldn't sleep there." He tried, voice a little heavy, muttering, "Too bumpy."

"Oh." I whispered back. "I see."

"You... comfortable?"

"I need to... bathroom..." I admitted, quiet, and he nodded.

"By all means, go ahead, none will see you outside. I'll just... I'll just go to sleep." Bilbo settled down on his pack in a new position, pretending he was just going to sleep, but I wasn't fooled.

I stood up slowly, hesitant, half needing to pee ...really badly actually... and half wanting to wait. What if I missed it? Would I... then … I didn't know.

"Is your rain cloak still wet? You can borrow mine- it has excellent waterproofing."

I had to assume Bilbo wasn't leaving without his cloak. I took it, smiling weakly, and went outside into the rain.

He was right. It was pretty good. It was a relief too to get that out, even though I tried to hurry it, and when I entered the cave everyone was still there. No goblin trap triggered.

"Thanks." I muttered as I returned.

"I'll … set it out. You sleep. Long walk tomorrow." Bilbo took the cloak from me, shaking it, and then once it was draped near him on the floor again he tried to look as if he was 'sleeping'.

So did I.

It might have kind of been funny in a way.

We'd set each other off for twenty minutes or so, long tense minutes, both of us pretending to sleep when neither of us were even close to it. Bilbo would move, which would make me flinch, and then I would clearly still be awake and he would have to try and sleep again.

Then I had to go to the bathroom again. Once again Bilbo was the gentleman, offering his cloak, and the cycle almost started again.

Throughout all of this, most of the Dwarves slept, as if nothing and no one could wake them. Finally though everything settled. Finally Bilbo rose, slowly, and I didn't move.

This was it. It _had_ to be it.

It was. Just as Bilbo and Bofur exchanged a few words, the sound of thunder and rain drowning them out, I felt the ground tremble and slowly sat up. Oh god. This was it. Bag? Check. Weapon? Yep. Strung and ready. Arrows? I tried to be quiet, calm, as I 'shoved' them in so the points were stuck to the bottom a little better...

"Relax." Nori yawned beside me, yanking at me, muttering, "You got to sleep."

"I just … had a bad feeling."

"It's jush a dream." Nori rolled onto his back, eyes still shut, adding, "Mo... mother... jush a dream."

I had my eyes on Bilbo and Bofur now. The rain stopped, silence falling just as Bilbo's raised voice echoed somewhat around the cave.

"-on't understsand! None of you do- you're dwarves. You're used to – used to this life, living on the road, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere."

Bilbo seemed to realise everyone- at least everyone awake- had heard him. "I'm sorry. I didn't..."

"No. You're right." Bofur responded quietly. "We don't belong anywhere. I wish you all the luck in the world. I really do."

I straightened, shifting up somewhat, sure I'd felt a vibration somewhere underneath me. Perhaps not. Bilbo was just getting ready to leave when Bofur noticed the blue glow and...

God.

"What's that?"

The blue sword was drawn, a glow lighting the cave, and Thorin reacted. Too late, he reacted, calling sharp, "Wake up! Wake up!"

He kicked, shoved, as the ground really shook now. I was up, standing, white-knuckled grip on the bow.

Decision was made.

I was going with the Dwarves as far as I could go.

I watched in horror as sand started to slip between gaps, scrambling to my feet, my legs weak with fear. It as too late- we were here. The floor fell away, very sudden, and all of us along with it, right down into the very place none of us wanted to be in.

* * *

A/N:

Firstly- edited! The first version bothered me SO MUCH... I had to rewrite it. :) I don't mind her son, he's got a great sense of humor, but it's a bit of a mind-twist to have him popping in and out as he likes. If he wants to see dragons then he can go to ...Lake town. Or something. Maybe we'll see him there. (Maybe not!)

To answer someone's question... I will use book AND movie. :) I know the movies aren't accurate... but I like that, I liked to use their bizare 'change of plot' moments as being somewhat connected to Wendy's presence in the world.

I do not have internet and won't have for about a week, maybe week and a half, but I do have phone internet. So updates should come. They'll just be a bit slower. :)


	10. Down in the deep

It was a long drop, much longer than I anticipated, down a slope that was steep and unpleasantly oily and the adrenaline and anxiety rushing through my entire body made the drop seem to stretch out into slow motion- heightening all that I already felt and giving me a strangely accurate perspective of everything we dropped into. The caves were better lit than the one we'd been in- which had not been lit at all- but not so much that it blinded me.

The last moments, in that heightened sense of 'slow motion', I saw everything as if it froze a moment. The great cage waiting for us, glittering eyes in the dark, great cage barriers with spikes for those who fell awkwardly, the startled, fearful, angry and confused expressions of the Dwarves around, and the blue glow of Bilbo's sword still clutched in his hand. All glimpses... all very fast... but all seen. The smell was equally as powerful, a musk rank smell that suggested decomposing and illness was in every corner, with cruel laughter echoing around the dimly lit caves.

Then I landed on Bombur, which was lucky, and then I in turn was landed on by Bilbo. Not so pleasant. We scrambled around, tangled up, trying hard to stand while tangled up in one another, I got caught in poor Bombur's braid a moment, and by the time any of us had managed to stand there was no time for weapons.

They jumped into us, on top of us, grabbing at hair, cloth, cloak and pack, feet and hands crawling over us as they swarmed.

I supposed I'd known that. Still I grabbed for it, or tried to, only to have goblins swarm into our midst and the fighting began. I fought, struggling as several of them tried to grab wrists, the motions more automatic self-preservation than it was … expectation of change. God, they stank, their expressions far too nasty, and I smacked, kicked, punched, sometimes getting lucky shots in, and sometimes failing spectacularly. One I knocked clean off the edge, nearly, or would have if he hadn't grabbed the edge. Another I missed entirely, a goblin had shoved me forward from behind, and I'd nearly knocked Thorin off the edge.

It was for nothing, of course, and I knew that but it was impossible to not fight for my life when they came at me, whips in hand, screeching in delight, seeing us as animals to slaughter...

Something sharp … the end of a whip... nicked my head, my shoulder, my back, and then I was pushed in a direction. One by one, I realised, we were forced away from the group and into a small guard of goblins each. They were ugly, cruel, terrible creatures... but they were clever... and with my arms restrained, a whip at my back and a vice-like grip on each wrist, there was no way I could even consider drawing a sword or throwing another punch.

We all were forced along the narrow path in a line, separated from one another, and I ran half blind with a trickle of blood running down across one of my eyes from a cut somewhere. I had a good vantage point from my height, able to see the Dwarves also were bleeding in places here and there, struggling and punching even as they were forced along.

Goblins behind us, between us, surrounding us, racing along the wall of the great caves. I heard my breathing, fast and a little panicked, cutting in and out of their song, my mind too overwhelmed and panicked to catch all of it... but I caught the key words.

"...Clap! Snap!... Pinch!... Goblin-Town... you go, my lad!..."

Bats rushed past, a shaky bridge under us, but it held, the Dwarves cursing and shouting behind and ahead of me.

"Get off! Get your hands off me!"

"Crush, smash..."

"Get off me!" Dwalin, I could tell from the bald head, shouted as he struggled, forcing those behind to pause a moment as they struggled to get him under control once again.

"... pound... pound..."

"Let go!"

"You'll pay!"

"-while goblins quaff, and goblins laugh..."

"Give you something to laugh abo-"

The song and the shouts of the dwarves echoed, with the squeak of bats flying past, my ragged breathing surprisingly loud even in this situation. Why did everybody sing? Why did GOBLINS sing?

"Clap, smash!"

The song echoed, particularly when they shrieked 'Clap', 'Smash!' or one of the other words, and it honestly was one of the strangest and most terrifying things I had heard... because there were voices, voices all around us as we were rushed forward in the darkness, eyes glinting along almost every wall from the dark. Skulls, some still decomposing, some long since whitened, gleamed and appeared in the darkness on spikes on every turn, on every corner, the flickering oil lights making them seem to scream and apear distorted in the darkness.

"Batter, and beat! Yammer and bleat!"

The bridges were filthy, wet with blood, wet with body parts, my feet slipping and skidding in whatever poor creatures had been torn to shreds, perhaps travellers, perhaps animals, I couldn't see for all the goblins around me.

"Swish! Smack! Whip crack!"

The movie was wrong. The movie was very wrong- because we were not just escorted by the goblins on the wooden paths. There were hundreds of the creatures singing, laughing, screeching, setting off bats near and far. The path only lead down, always down, always deep, and it was not a short run. The song repeated several times over as we were charged forward, cut, whipped, yanked and shoved. The paths shook, the air vibrated as scores of goblins on all sides charged after us on walls and nearby paths, watching us.

"Round, and round, far underground!"

Goblin Town, if that was what anyone could call it, was a sudden turn and a great lit cavern suddenly gaping open before us where thousands more of the goblin creatures waited, on every path, on every ledge, drums beating in the darkness that made my blood run cold and sweat break out, reminding me of another time. In another place.

Drums. Drums in the dark.

Cannot get out...

We had to get out.

That was what the book had said. The movie.

But what if it changed? Things could change...

I _nearly_ lost it, nearly lost control over my panic, and maybe it was only because I saw Ori's frightened white face ahead that I managed to pull myself together. Focus. I had to focus on the moment, this exact moment, and nothing more.

We had slowed down, the shoving and running over, a goblin ahead with a torch leading the way up the path that now wound up towards where I could see the great platform against a spiked large stone.

I forced myself to breathe in even deep counts, eyes fixed ahead and sense on everything, trying to find that place of calm deep inside. Boromir had said that. When you fought... you had to find a place of calm and stay there till it was over.

The closer we got, the more that terrible smell grew, as if it came specifically from this one place. I could see it as well- the Goblin King- but nothing prepared me for the terrible stinking reality. It was covered in pustules, in blisters, contorted by layers of fat that seemed to be rotting, surrounded by armed and armoured goblins with curved blades of dull metal.

Around us the Goblins, thousands of them, had gathered on platforms surrounding us as if we were in the Colosseum, and it occurred to me that this was exactly what this platform was- not just a place for the Goblin King's throne but also … also … by the blood stains, the skulls fresh and old, the parts of bodies that were unidentifiable, that this was their place of torture and entertainment.

Once I was shoved into the middle the Goblins grasped sword, bow and quiver, axe, knife and club, stripping us of any weapon they could find and throwing them at the feet of their King. My pack, which rattled terribly as if a number of thing had broken in the fall, was dragged off my back. I hadn't let go... but now I had no choice.

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my Kingdom?" Fluid rushed over the floor, spraying the poor Dwarves closest, saliva pouring out one half of the Goblin King's mouth. He gazed across all of us with equal malevolence. "Spies? Thieves? _Assassins_?" His voice went high pitched, as if this was the worst thing of all, and while he was only a few feet higher than me... I still felt as if he was about to lunge for us and tear us into pieces with his giant hands.

A nearby goblin responded, "Dwarves and a man, your malevolence."

Yep. Even the dwarf agreed that this creature was malevolence... and I felt bile rise in my throat, absolutely sick as the breath of the King now swept past me, trying to ignore the nudity that the creature had. Why did Goblins need _nipples_ and a hairy chest?

A body pressed up against my side, against my front, Ori right there in front, his small body shaking.

"We found them sheltering in our front porch."

"Well- don't just stand there! Search them! Search every crack, every crevice!"

They did, charging forward, and my cloak was ripped off and lost as they sought pockets, hidden weapons, but I was thankfully of little interest as it became obvious that I had no more weapons- the knife was in my pack, the sword gone, the arrow gone. We were shoved into each other, back and forward, as the dwarves tried to push forward to search.

"What are you doing in these parts? Speak!"

Kili pressed beside us, sudden, steady as he pressed himself against Ori's side. I noticed that his hand had gone to rest on Ori's lower back as it brushed against one of my thighs. He was not shaking- and it seemed to help poor Ori.

I wished I was shorter, suddenly, as the Goblin King's glance went over me... it was just a moment but it was more than enough. His eyes bulged, his chin so distorted that it could have been a beard from afar, as no one spoke.

"Murderers and friends of Elves, not unlikely! Come! What have you got to say?"

There was a pause, a long pause, and still no one spoke. I couldn't have been able to even if I wanted to- my throat was dry, it was taking all my concentration just to breathe and stay calm, but the urge to vomit from fear and loathing … it may have become more than an urge if I tried to utter a single word.

"Very well! If they will not talk, we'll make them squawk!"

A din was heard at that, voices raised in cheer and screams of delight, the entire chamber shaking with the delight of goblins.

"Bring up the mangler! Bring up the bone breaker! Start with the youngest!"

He pointed. Straight towards me, straight towards Ori, and both of us … both of us shuddered, almost at the exact moment, neither of it clear which he was gesturing to. Perhaps both... two instruments of torture, two 'youngest'... or had it been to Kili and Ori? It didn't matter. I didn't know how Kili wasn't shaking now. The stubborn young dwarf was standing so steady, so strong, like nothing scared him.

"Wait!" It sounded as if Thorin was right behind me, literally hiding behind me, but he shoved me sideways.

"Thorin, no..." Dori whispered from somewhere behind also.

Thorin ignored Dori's whisper, his hand on Ori's shoulder a moment, those of us moving to one side for him.

"Well, well, well... look who it is. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain."

I didn't know how Thorin did it, standing so strong in front of this creature twice his height and many times his size, but he did, even as the Goblin King mock-bowed.

"Oh- but I'm forgetting! You don't have a Mountain!"

"Of all the things you suspect and imagine, we had no idea at all, for we were sheltering from a storm in what seemed in a convenient and unused cave." Thorin spoke, ignoring the Goblin King's scorn, his back and shoulders straight, head bowing slightly in what I assumed was a polite gesture as he addressed the Goblin King. I was a little... taken back by how polite he was being. "Nothing was further from our thoughts than inconveniencing gobl-"

"You're not a King..." The Goblin King didn't wait for Thorin to finish. "...which makes you a ... _nobody_, really."

That did seem to get a reaction- Thorin's body tensed and his head slowly turned up towards the Goblin King once more- and the Goblin King was clearly pleased with this.

"I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just a head." There was a chuckle, making saliva-covered chin and chest jiggle, as the Goblin King continued to pry at the weakness Thorin had so easily exposed- his own ego, his own pride. "Nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak. An old enemy of yours. A pale orc astride a white warg."

Whatever control Thorin had earlier, when trying to be polite and talk us out of this, was slipping now. "Azorg the defiler was _destroyed_."

That got another reaction, a pleased little grin, and the Goblin King's pupils viably diluting in pleasure as he found yet another sensitive place to dig at Thorin. "Oh-ho..."

"He was slain in battle long ago!" Thorin continued, emotion making his voice tremble, and I could only imagine... only begin to understand what kind of terrible discovery this would be. All I knew was that most of the survivors from Thorin's people had been murdered by this Orc and his own kind. He'd probably assumed he'd avenged them. All of them.

"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?" Another chuckle, spreading to the Goblins about, a terrible expression of cruelty and delight He turned to a small goblin on a pully, ordering, "Send word to the pale Orc. Tell him- I have found his prize."

The tiny goblin tugged a little rope, the swing freed, and he vanished into the darkness with his own laughter echoing around the chamber.

Great. Another thing I had to be worried about. I had hoped that part of this … that he was also just a movie plot. Apparently not. Apparently we really did have an orc pack hunting Thorin's every steps.

A commotion from behind, shrieking, delighted terrible song, made me wonder if even more goblins were pouring in for the show. I didn't turn around, didn't want to see that sight, and I was not expecting what actually came. They shoved something into the middle, singing about bones crunching or something, but the person shoved in amongst us looked totally carefree about them. He only had eyes for us.

More goblins? Yes. They pushed in on all sides, shoving us, still trying to search us. But it wasn't just them. A tall body edged in, taller than myself, and I was nudged hard by an elbow.

"Woman..."

_Boromir_.

He looked pretty fucking awful, wet hair, his hands bleeding and scraped up, one half of his face looking like he'd get a black eye and a full face bruise, dried blood down his nostril, lip and chin, but the grin on his face as he was shoved into our group...

"You have almost died _too many times_." I hissed, fingers clawing into palms, resisting the urge to smack the fuck out of his grinning face. Oh my god- did I want to _smack him_. He looked far too pleased with himself. I'd kill him myself. I couldn't take any more 'near deaths' on his part.

"Another one." The goblin announced. "Stumbled right into the cave as we searched it."

"Part of your group, is he?"

"He is." Thorin sighed, his eyes shutting a moment, relief evident on his face.

"I'll explain later..." Boromir muttered, edging closer as they tried to search us, struggling to keep the sword as the goblins tried to strip him. This started a new jostling and shoving match, goblins shoving at us, trying to see under cloak and clothing, something the dwarves and Boromir did not like at all.

"Excellent! One more for the show!" The Goblin King exclaimed. He really seemed delighted by this, clapping his hands together, the skull on his staff almost falling off. "And here they come!"

We turned, or at least I had, and I wished I hadn't. Great horrible looking insturments of torture were being brought up the path, horrible things that even from a distance were clearly designed for pain, and … they weren't more than a few minutes away.

"Bones will be shattered, necks will be wrung!" The song, the all too familiar song, had stared up as the Goblin King began to dance around, his body jiggling, his breath and the smell of his skin washing over us with a new strength, causing myself and Ori to gag. "You'll be beaten and battered- from wracks you'll be hung! You will die down here and never be found, down in the deep of Goblin Town!"

"Just in time." Boromir muttered against my side.

A shriek from nearby startled us, cutting the happy reunion short very fast, as Thorin's weapon was discovered.

They reacted. Everyone reacted, even the goblins far off, flinging themselves away from the weapon as far as they could get, the Goblin King flinging himself backwards onto his throne as the Elvish weapon clattered to the ground exposed in all it's beautiful sharp glory.

"I know that sword! It is the goblin cleaver! The biter!"

Whips reappared, sharp tipped, as we were shoved backwards from our weapons, which started another round of shoving and struggling … Throin thrown forward as the Goblins whipped him with a particular anger and fury, forcing him to his knees under the sheer anger of the attack.

"The blade that sliced a thousand necks! Slash them, beat them, kill them!"

There was nothing we could do to help- Goblins returned now, leaping on us, arms trying to throttle us from above and behind, and I was momentarily surrounded and lost from everyone else. There wasn't anything really that funny about this- they were trying to grab for my neck, hitting, punching, trying to bite, and under the sheer weight of god knew how many trying to kill me... it was impossible to stand, or even kneel, because within moments I was overwhelmed by them. Air? It was impossible to get.

I didn't hear much else, too busy trying to pry fingers away from my neck, eyes on a blade that shone dully above me, but I did see the explosion. I felt it too- this incredible explosion of heat and air, of light, it out all crude lanterns, threw Goblins off the side of the platform, and when the heat was gone, only a vivid blinding white light remained- and when it was gone, the lanterns seemed to recover, but my sight... for a moment I was blind and only aware of what was right around me.

I was half sprawled under the goblin that'd tried to throttle me, it seemed stunned, completely dazed, and I quickly pried the fingers off. Gandalf. About bloody time. I would have stood if I wasn't busy trying to get oxygen back into my lungs. Boromir was faster, I noticed, rising to his feet heavily, his height making him obvious even several metres away.

"Take up arms..." Gandalf's voice rose above the groaning of goblin and Dwarf.

No kidding.

I managed to stand, grabbing for the first sword I could get my hands on, which seemed to be Boromir's sword. No time for a bow in this situation, though I grabbed for it and slung it over in the moment, as stunned goblins struggled to stand. I threw Boromir his sword, as he stood straight, his hand grabbing it with an easy reach.

"Fight!"

This seemed to snap the goblins out of it, the Dwarves not far behind, swords, axes and whatever else was there snatched up as Gandalf lunged into the fray with his own sword flashing in the dim light. I was joined by Bombur, who seemed to know the owner of every axe and sword, and had the quiver and sword flung at me.

"He weilds the foehammer! The bea-!"

"_Shut up!_" Boromir's growl, as he was there at my side all of a sudden, looking as if he was heading straight for the Goblin King himself. He must have been itching for this for a long time.

No opportunity to watch or admire his return to self.. no, I was busy, trying to stand right, slashing for Goblin neck, goblin arm, hand, belly, whatever the hell opened up for me. They were so disorganised, so stunned, that they were open quite a lot... or perhaps they weren't so skilled with this situation... but it didn't matter, because with my lack of skills, I took every chance I got. The blade was sharp, adrenaline making my movements fast and the pain from any injury or bruise vanish, the platform suddenly slippery with goblin blood.

"Thorin!"

I turned to see Thorin stagger back, only a moment, before he charged for the Goblin King and with a powerful slash, sent the King throne and all tumbling back off the platform. Moments later Dwalin had thrown a goblin straight for me, and I spun, slashing at whatever part of it came first- turned out to be the head and an arm- and sending it half decapitated and armless down into the pit along with several other goblins shoved backwards from Dori's weapon. Dwalin nodded at that, before turning, smashing his axe into the side of threw more Goblins that had tried to leap down at him.

"Follow me-" Gandalf didn't shout, but his voice carried, and as he called, "Quick!" there was no argument. "Run!"

I _ran_.

I was halfway along, trying to run as fast as I could without running too fast and charging into Dwarf, my heart hammering and legs shaking so much that I wasn't sure how I could run at all without falling.

Gandalf kept urging us onwards, as the Goblins charged around us, above us, below us, every single one I'd seen earlier and more screeching and shouting to one another as they outran us. The wooden bridges shook so hard that I was sure they were in danger of falling, but I followed Gloin's back anyway.

Goblins came up from the sides, down from above, my sword finding them as fast as I could move, sometimes... sometimes slow, sometimes quick, and I couldn't stop to correct myself on 'posture' or whatever else... just had to keep slashing and keep kicking and, given the state of most of the bridges, try to not fall between the gaps.

There were a _lot_ of gaps..

The further we ran, the more appeared, before they had once again separated us, and our running was slower as we had to stop and fight several at once.

"Cut the ropes!"

The call came, I turned to see Thorin nearby slashing for a rope, and I did it automatically. An enemy that wouldn't kill me or move. Fantastic. How could I resist?

I stared up as the ropes released a platform, catching goblins that were trying to swing down, and then turned and continued to run. I could watch the movie if I wanted to admire that.

"Wendy- bow!"

What! I turned, seeing that several archers were charging for us, one of them aiming directly for Kili. Within several seconds sword was away, bow was out, arrow sent flying. This... this I could do. It was perfect, even in the haste, catching the Goblin archer in the knee.

"Try adventuring now!" I shouted, so angry with the stupid things, wiping furiously at the blood that still continued to seep down my face into one of my eyes.

Kili lowered the ladder he'd detatched, shoving it on the Dwarves, and we charged forward behind him, shoving the Dwarves right off the edge and right across the ladder without a single thought about what the hell kind of danger that'd be.

Back to running, slashing, running, slashing, feet jumping across gaps, and before I knew it I was on a bridge. It swung for the other side, twisting, and with an easy leap I jumped across with several of the Dwarves.

"What did you do- take lessons from your Elf?" Boromir shouted, half teasing, as he stumbled to one knee from his jump.

We turned to half the others still on the bridge as it swung, their blades and axes flashing in the dark, but then they were there, joining us, and once again it was time to run.

I was exhausted. Everyone was. There was just no time to think about it.

If time was passing, which I suspected it was, I didn't notice... nor did I realise that Gandalf had released a bolder till we were already passing it... I had my bow, my arrows, taking a leaf out of Legolas' book- I'd have to tell him that later- and slacking Goblins in the face with the sturdy bow when I couldn't fire at them. I let them go at anything that appeared ahead, an axe behind me apparently killing anything that came for me, and...

How long had we run for? Through tunnels, platforms, from goblins, sometimes slow and sometimes very fast, it was impossible to tell.

All I knew was that when I saw the exit- I recognised it- I nearly collapsed from exhaustion and relief … and may have if a goblin hadn't appeared and re-triggered my adrenaline to rush through me.

Of course the Goblin King appeared.

He leapt up, blocking our path, Gandalf moving forward between us and him. I twisted around to see Boromir at the other end, blocking the Dwarves from the hundreds of Goblins still alive- several of them with my arrows sticking out of them I noticed- his attention on both us and them.

"You thought you could escape me?" The Goblin King lunged for Gandalf with the great staff, sending him flying back into us, as the Goblin King gloated, "What are you going to do now, Wizard?"

Gandalf flew forward, first for the eye and then the stomach, barely giving him a chance to react, before slashing through his great chin and into his throat.

The Goblin King fell, heavy, the poor bridge shaking hard as the heavy creature collapsed onto it. I heard wood splintering even now, felt it crack, and knew...

"It's breaking-" I called, mostly to Boromir- but also to the others, a little anxious all of a sudden. Oh hell no. I had forgotten this part too.

Then it did break.

It fell, with all of us on it, sliding down the side of the cave and breaking into any platform, any bridge, anything it found, parts of it splintering. I ended up on my stomach clinging to the piece left, right beside Dori and Gandalf, their screams in my head... and maybe mine as well, but I was mentally detatching a little from my body at this point.

Surviving this shit was only done in movies. Right?

Yet we kept sliding, kept hitting things, the fall broken again and again, even while on the broken bridge... and with a tremendous CRASH …

We'd fallen and survived.

There was groaning, Dwarven bodies everywhere, Gandalf rising to his feet heavily nearby. I shut my eyes a long moment... waiting... waiting for pain, for broken bone, for injury, for splinter and...

Nothing.

Holy crap.

"Well-" Bofur exclaimed, "-That could have been worse."

_That_ triggered me to get up, quick as I could, and just in time... as the Goblin King collapsed on the bridge.

"You've _got_ to be joking!" Dwalin grunted, sounding half winded, and I turned to try and help pry wood off them to help them get out. Boromir slid out slowly, a pack on his back, yanking Ori along with him, still looking far too relaxed … like he was enjoying this somehow.

"Gandalf!" Kili's shout snapped me out of it.

"Oh right..." Goblins.

"There's two many, we can't fight them..." Dwalin stated the obvious, as he hoisted up a Nori with his hair gone incredibly askew, and Gandalf nodded.

"Daylight!" Boromir grunted, yanking out Bombur, hoisting him to his feet somehow.

"Yes, daylight!" Gandalf agreed, moving forward to help Dori and Balin up, "Come on, on your feet!"

More running. Better than being trampled to death by angry Goblins.

Once again, like before, it was not just a short run to the exit. I had hoped for that, I really hoped for it, but the tunnel itself was long, winding, and it took Gandalf several pauses at several crossroads to find the right one. No one spoke, expect for a grunt, or a 'Run faster'...

We just had enough energy to keep our legs stumbling forward, shoving one another in our haste and lack of control. Rocks made us stumble, sharp nasty rocks, sides of the passage grabbing and cutting as we missed it in the darkness, but finally...

The glow of daylight was almost too good to be true. Almost.

"Quick, quick!" Gandalf urged, pausing and shoving everyone who passed, but when I passed... I hesitated.

"What is it?"

I stared down a passage to the side, Boromir freezing beside me, both of us staring into the dakrness. Was Bilbo in there? Was Gollum?

"Run!" Gandalf shoved at us, his eyes fixed on us, and we both ran. It was just a moment, just a quick glance, but he was a pretty observant wizard...

Maybe later we could explain it. Another time.

I half staggered and half ran into warm afternoon sunlight.

"Keep running- away from the Mountain, go! Rest later."

So I ran, the downhill slope keeping me going more than my legs, jumping and stumbling and leaping over rock, pinecones, around trees, down the slopes, following the back of Nori's head as I panted, gasped for air, urging my body just to go... just a little further.

Just a little more.

The sun sank as we ran- so I had to guess we kept it up for half an hour, perhaps even longer, though I could no longer to honestly bear watching the time. It might have just been for ten minutes, honestly, as the sun had already been low...

It was such a relief to see Thorin slow down, the others slowing ahead, and I stumbled forward to join them, bending double over as I tried to breathe and pant, every part of my body feeling as if it had been hit by a bus. Parts of me stung, bled, ached, burnt, trembled, contorted under muscular cramps, and I was desperate for water- my throat and tongue felt so fat, so thick, so rough.

"Drink..." Boromir offered a bottle of water and I drank, desperate, almost forgetting that he and the others might need it too. I had already drunk several large gulps before remembering and shoved it back at him, breathless, unable to speak.

I did manage to slap him. Or I tried to. It ended up being 'hand on your arm' rather than 'slapping your arm'... but I was too busy breathing to verbally inform him that I'd just 'slapped' him.

I eyeballed a nice rock, hesitating, and Boromir grabbed my arm gently.

"If you sit- you will struggle to stand or run again."

Run. More? Great. I could see his point though, staying up, breathing hard as Gandalf did a head count of the Dwarves. He counted us also, I noticed, though we did get a bit of a sharp look. I wondered if we were in trouble for shouldering our way into this...

"Where's Bilbo. Where is our hobbit?"

Automatically I went to point, Boromir shoving my hand down, reminding me... that they didn't know he was coming. I had been so tired that I'd forgotten it was a 'secret'.

"Drink more..." Boromir urged, quietly.

I shook my head and smiled faintly. "It's okay... you drink. We have to talk."

"Later." He responded quietly. "Drink. More is to come."

I took it, as the Dwarves peered around, drinking a few more gulps of the welcome fluid.

"Curse the halfing!" Dwalin shouted, frustrated, when no one could see him. "Now he's lost?"

"I thought he was with Dori!"

"Don't blame me!"

"Well, where did you last see him?" Gandalf cut in, as the Dwarves seemed ready to start an argument.

"I think I saw him slip away when they first collared us-" Nori admitted. He looked strange with his hair like that, so unkempt and falling apart, almost not like himself.

"And what happened exactly? Tell me!"

"I'll tell you what happened." Thorin moved past, his annoyance all over his face, muttering, "Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it. He's thought nothing but his soft bead and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door. We will not be seeing our Hobbit again. He is long gone."

Boromir and I exchanged glances, not speaking, but … expecting. Hoping. We gazed out to the forest. I wondered if things could change- if Bilbo may not have made it this time.

God. I hoped not. Not after all of that.

"No!"

Relief was all over my face, I was sure, but Boromir had the same look. We both exhaled at the same time as Bilbo appeared from behind a tree. He looked tired, dusty, bruised and bloody, but … okay.

"No, he isn't." Biblo informed Thorin. The others seemed shocked as well.

Gandalf just laughed, moving forward to Bilbo, grasping for his shoulder. "Bilbo Baggins! I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life!"

Bilbo moved forward, he and Balin exchanging a nod and an affectionate grasp of shoulder, pleased with the effect he'd had on everyone.

"Bilbo, we'd given up on you!" Kili shook his head.

"How on earth did you get past the Goblins?!"

"How, indeed." Dwalin muttered.

Bilbo hesitated at that.

I could see his problem. Telling them that he'd met Gollum and found the …

The ring. He had it.

Almost as if we'd had the same thought at the same time, Boromir and myself slowly gazed to one another, and fir the first time I felt...

It wasn't fear, exactly, but it was anxiety. Boromir's face had lost the smile, his body tensing up, and when he looked back towards Bilbo... It was not quite the same smile it had been earlier.

The terrible thought crossed my mind that … that perhaps it would have been far easier... far safer for Bilbo... if Boromir had died. Or if he'd gone back to Rivendel.

"Well-" Gandalf cut in, through the awkward silence, as Bilbo seemed unable to answer. "What does it matter? He's back."

"It matters!" Thorin moved forward to Bilbo. "I need to know- why _did_ you come back?"

Bilbo gazed to each of us, slowly, as he muttered, "Look, I know you doubt me, I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag End. I miss my books. And my armchair. And my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home. And that's why I came back, cause you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can."

Gandalf smiled, a gentle warm smile down to the Hobbit, and I saw the Dwarves seem to finally melt a little towards him.

Boromir had smiled a little too, but it was still stiff, and he was quick to turn away and towards me.

"We have perhaps an hour of sunlight, that should be enoug-"

A howl cut Gandalf off.

He paled then, eyes going to each of us, and Thorin straightened also.

"Is that a wolf?" Ori's voice was quieter than usual.

"Warg." Boromir muttered.

Thorin's grip on his axe had tightened now. "Out of the frying pan-"

"-and into the fire." Gandalf finished. He gestured to us, a surge of energy shocking me back into focus, and as we turned Gandalf was already shouting, "Run! _Run_!"

Somehow, by some feat of incredible need, we found the energy and we _ran_.


	11. Finally eagles!

"Wait!"

"Now is not the ti-"

"Call your Eagle Lord friends!" Boromir grasped Gandalf's shoulder, only to get smacked back, but Gandalf... didn't seem quite as aggressive as he had been the last time.

He simply gazed at Boromir a moment as he snapped just so that the two of us could hear, "He is not a neighbour to call for _tea_, Boromir, _son of __Denethor_."

Woah.

I froze a moment, nearly stumbling forward in my shock, but the look on Boromir's face was most priceless. Nobody had called him that for a very long time, nobody had used the typical polite Middle Earthen 'You son of blah and son of blah...'

"There isn't time for this." Boromir snapped out of it. He was panting, trying to speak as we ran, snapping, "There is only … only a cliff at the end of this path … and the Warg will run us down and knock us off the end if they get the chance. Trees. Stay quiet. Wait for eagles..."

"We run." Gandalf insisted. So we ran. I swore I saw him grab for something though, his hand to his mouth, and wondered... if perhaps Boromir's idea hadn't been such a bad one after all. Never the less... we ran for around fifteen more minutes before he changed his mind.

"Trees." Gandalf froze at that, and suddenly he shouted, "Into the trees!"

The Dwarves nearly fell over, surprised at Gandalf's change of mind, but no one argued. Up they went, poor Bilbo nearly left behind as his small body couldn't take it, and after giving him a quick shove up I hoisted myself up into a tree as well. We had run so far that we were pretty much AT the cliff, it couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes more down the hill, though it was only seen once we were up in the treetops. I hoped that meant the trees here had deeper roots and steadier holds on the earth.

I ended up high up on the end of a swaying pine, clinging to the trunk as I sat on a branch, Bifur a little higher up, Bilbo nearby, twins scrambling up moments later. The sunlight was fading only slightly, still warming my skin up high.

Fili leaned up to gaze out, his red hair incredible in the red light of the setting sun, and pointed. "There is a cliff-"

"How did he know?"

"We've seen a lot." I responded automatically. Not a lie. He had. We'd both seen a lot. "It's too far to jump. The trees would be very unsteady there..."

"Aye, they would. They would likely fall over at the slightest push." Fili agreed as he leaned down. He glanced to Boromir with a grateful nod, panting, his skin shiny with sweat. "Smart thinking."

I went to shove hair out of my face, my own sweaty skin hot and bothersome, only to find short hair. It was a nice surprise... I didn't seem to miss my own hair at all.

"Breathe, woman." Boromir called from nearby. He'd found his own tree, Gandalf not far off, and then the two of them leaned close and spoke. From the looks on Boromir's face- I had to assume Gandalf knew something more than we'd expected.

Bifur grunted from above, dropping something down to me, and I found a flask of water.

"He says drink." Fili yanked out his own water. "Hope we find some more."

"I finished all mine." Kili muttered as he peered into his bottle.

"Then drink some of mine."

I drank a little before handing the bottle back to Bifur. He just smiled, gesturing with his hands, the voice I'd heard apparently gone now... all he seemed able to do was grunt as he took it and gestured to his mouth.

"He has trouble talking sometimes. Think it's to do with the... you know." Kili gestured to his forehead. "He's asking if you have got any of that dry bread on you?"

"Sorry... pack gone." I really wasn't hungry. I felt a little sick actually.

Bifur's face fell a little, as he glanced down to the hobbit underneath us, and when I looked at Bilbo I suddenly saw why the sudden question about food. Bilbo looked pale, exhausted, his small body clinging to the tree with clear effort. Kili was quick to slide down several branches and sit beside him.

"I think I see the wargs-" Fili leaned up, twisting in the other direction, some of his color back in his face. The sun was just about over the edge of the distant horizon, nearly, and yet … we seemed to have breathing space. No wargs snapping at our heels. No desperate jump for trees.

Gandalf rose up nearby, his staff glowing as he touched it to a pine cone, and with a pretty incredible throw, he'd tossed the pine cone down at the forest floor. The pine needles caught alight immediately.

"What you doing?" Bofur called.

"Delaying them!" Gandalf responded, lighting and tossing another one, using the scabbard of his sword to bat the pine cone as far away up the hill as he could. "Dwarves- catch! Hit them as far up as you can!"

He started to toss smouldering pine cones to each Dwarf, ignoring Bilbo, myself and Boromir, setting the forest above alight as fast as the fourteen of them could manage. I wasn't sure how they could even hold them... but as the sun vanished down finally behind the horizon and the first movement of warg rider appeared in the slopes above I didn't question it any more.

It was working. They seemed to struggle with the fire, with the smoke, the Orc riders having trouble urging the warg beyond or over the burning bush, and often a lit pine cone was lobbed at them, exploding just in front of the big wolf-like things.

Clouds moved, the moon halfway between new and full, setting a cold light across us that added to the cold air of the Mountain. No more warm sunlight... but the warmth of the fire itself, as the fire spread towards us, that was easily felt.

"Gandalf... the fire..." Bilbo called, as the Orcs started to fan it towards us, the fire advancing down the slope in our direction. Several had made it through the line and were building little wood and pine needle heaps, lighting them, clearly trying to burn us in the trees we clung to.

"Wendy- your bow!" Kili called.

Oh bugger! I had forgotten!

I yanked it out, arrow nooked, and sent it flying. I got a shoulder first, not particularly a fantastic shot, but the next one seemed to redeem my skills as I managed to get a chest shot on a Warg that tried to leap up and snap for the tree. Orcs screamed as I let arrow after arrow go, trying to deflect them with swords or sticks. Sometimes they managed and sometimes I got another arrow deep into muscle or chest or once even an eyeball.

Several of the Dwarves smashed axes into wargs, as they tried to leap up, but it was the bow that had them backing off- they only managed to light one of the trees. The Dwarves leapt for our tree, us being closest, as the Pine tree easily caught alight, Thorin nearly crashing into Bilbo as he landed heavily lower down. Our tree had started to groan and creek quite a bit more.

"Wendy!" Boromir called. I twisted around to see them, big graceful eagles, swooping down and I lowered my bow just as they swung down for the Orcs and wargs.

"It cannot be..." Thorin's exhale, his shocked exhale, was short lived. I turned to see that stupid pale orc that tormented Thorin, circling around just a moment before it... what was it called? Azok or something? … start to shout something up to Thorin in a tongue I didn't understand.

"Bring him to me!"

Something lunged up at that moment, grabbing for Thorin, and to my horror it actually reached him.

He struggled a moment, kicking with his other foot, as the warg tried to drag him out of the tree. The branch gave way with a terrible crash, Thorin and warg falling together, Thorin appearing dazed as the warg and rider tried to right themselves from the short distance they'd rolled together.

They turned on him, the warg's' teeth baring, as the pale orc called something else in that strange language.

"No! Thorin!" Kili shouted, trying to scramble down, only something beat him to it. Someone.

Bilbo flung himself down, his small sword in his hand, and more by accident than intent he'd somehow managed to impale the warg's skull with the weapon as he'd fallen.

Thorin lay there trying to shove the branch off him, one of his legs bleeding under the shredded trousers, his sword in belt pinned under his body, as Bilbo stood between him and the wargs. They charged, no time for any of us to react, knocking Bilbo over Thorin's body, the two of them totally vulnerable, Thorin getting dragged out from the tree, as Bilbo tried to struggle and defend him.

_Damnit_. This wasn't supposed to happen. I tried to fire, finding I only had two more arrows, and neither of them flew true in the panicked moment. One struck a warg's shoulder, the other nearly hit Bilbo and missed the goblin by several inches, and as I considered sliding down...

Kili and Dwalin appeared, Fili not far behind, their weapons raised.

At that moment the eagles came... and boy did they _kick butt_.

They swung for Wargs, knocking them clear off the nearby cliff, using their great wings to fan the fire towards the warg and Orc, just as they might have if we'd been... I didn't know, hanging off a pine tree over a cliff.

One by one the Eagles made a grab for Dwarf, tossing them about as if they weighed nothing, the looks on their faces priceless. They went for those on the ground first, or those highest up, and by the time I was picked up most were already in the sky.

I probably looked no less panicked though when suddenly those incredible set of talons plucked me out of the tree, yanking me right up, and dropping me high above the ground onto the back of a swooping Eagle.

"You better hold on!" Boromir called, laughing, delighted as he appeared and disappeared in the air.

I hung on. I grasped feather, trying to not tug any out, surprised by how... by how steady it was back here. We were up in the air suddenly, rising up above smoke, above angry Orc and warg, and suddenly we were once again in the light of the setting sun.

They carried us far off from there, swooping across the great Mountains, across stones and forests, down waterfalls, almost always in the light of the sunlight, high enough to see the sun as our exhausted and battered bodies were carried far away from the Mountains, through the great gaps, and down towards the valleys.

The Dwarves were laughing, cheering, delighted, at least most of them. No shouts for Thorin, no worry, just … enjoyment. We were getting out and we were doing it without forcing our battered and weary bodies through another fight.

I saw our ending, a great craggy outcrop still in the light of the sunlight, a long blue river snaking through green far down below, and in the end of the valley a small blue lake waited. One by one the Eagles lowered down, pausing just long enough for their passenger or passengers to drop, and when it was my turn, I slid off with a, "Thank you..." to the great bird as it paused a moment to allow me to get onto the rock.

It turned, great head seeking mine, eye in mine as it literally bowed its head, and then it was gone, rising up, so that another eagle could drop a very white and trembly Bilbo down beside me.

"That path would have taken days!" Kili laughed, so happy, so delighted, gazing up.

"As the eagle flies takes on another meaning, doesn't it?" Balin slid down awkwardly, Thorin grasping his arm as he steadied himself, calling, "Thank you!" to the Eagle that was gone in a few powerful flaps.

Boromir came across, smacking me across the arm, grinning in his 'I did something awesome, how about some praise?' face. "We know how bad that could have gone."

"Yes- they were very generous to assist us." Gandalf responded. He came forward, slow, his face surprisingly free of glare or suspicion as he stared at Boromir and myself.

I turned to gaze around, seeking it out, and … there it was. The Lonely Mountain. Boromir turned to stare as well. It didn't matter what we'd seen- the real thing was incredible.

Everyone turned.

"You-" Thorin turned on Bilbo. "What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed! Did I not say you would be a burden? That you had no place amongst us?" Thorin advanced on Bilbo, sudden, a slight limp to his movement from where he'd been grabbed by the warg.

Silence had fallen, the smiles and cheer gone, poor Bilbo looking like a deer in headlights as the taller Dwarf advanced on him.

"I've never been so wrong in all my life." Thorin grabbed Bilbo, sudden, embracing him, his voice shaking with emotion.

Around me, Dwarves laughed, cheered, and I felt surprisingly... teary. Boromir laughed, clapping his hands several times, shaking his head as we once again exchanged a look.

Guess there were some things we couldn't change. I was kind of glad we hadn't.

Gandalf laughed, leaning on his staff, and then his eyes went up to the sky as the Eagles passed over us with a cry to him.

"I'm sorry I doubted you." Thorin's voice, softer now, could still be heard as he finally released the hobbit.

"I would have doubted me too. I'm not a hero or a warrior..." Bilbo shrugged. "Not even a burglar."

There was soft laughter at that, the dwarves shaking their head, before they headed forward to pat Bilbo's shoulder.

Once again the eagles swooped past, close, the air from their wings sending a breeze across us as they cried out.

"What are they doing?" Bofur backed up a little.

"Watching, Bofur, just watching!" Gandalf laughed, shaking his head, and added, "And giving us their regrets!"

"For what?" Balin spoke up. "They have done us a great favour!"

"For being unable to take us a little further- the men in these valleys have great yew bows, I am told, and the eagles would not risk it." There was another cry from above, the Eagles passing by, and then they swooped down across the valley, spreading out, this time apparently leaving for good. Gandalf added, "But they will bring us food."

"Food? We should keep going..." Thorin turned, his eyes a little damp, and his body clearly exhausted. He had blood dried on his body, his face bruised, hair wet with something that may have been his blood, may have been Orc or goblin blood, it was impossible to tell.

"We need rest, Thorin, before we can keep going. Even a meal will keep weary minds and bodies moving." Gandalf responded quickly. He gestured behind Thorin, behind most of the Dwarves, and added, "And then we will continue onwards. Look."

He gestured past Thorin to the horizon.

We all turned to look, seeking what he was pointing out, and there it was. The Lonely Mountain. On the horizon.

"Is that what I think it is?"

Slowly we made our way up the slope to see it, seeking it out, wispy clouds glowing gold and pnk across the sky.

"Erebor. The Lonely Mountain." Gandalf confirmed. "Last of the great Dwarf kingdoms of Middle Earth."

"Our home." Thorin breathed.

A bird flew past, Oin exclaiming, "A raven!"

"No, my dear Oin, a thrush." Gandalf responded quickly.

"A good omen." Thorin breathed out slowly, relaxing, his shoulders slumping.

"You're right. I do believe the worst is behind us."

Boromir and I exchanged a look at this, neither of us wanting to say much, but I knew we'd have to talk. Not just about how he'd survived... but how to deal with it all from here on.

"Now."

Gandalf turned, facing us all, smiling gently down at the Dwarves. "Let us make our way to the lake- there the eagles will bring us rabbits and other good things, and you can all rest for a few hours. I will keep watch."

"Sounds good to me."

"Aye- I'm famished."

"What about the orcs?" Ori asked, tentative, glancing behind.

"They are a good many miles behind, many hours a journey even for wargs, and would not catch us tonight even if they ran without a pause." Gandalf reassured him. "We can afford to spend some hours resting."

Thorin sighed, nodding, and agreed. "Food and rest will only benefit us at this point. Come. Let us go to the lake, rest a moment, and then we will continue on before light."

The trudge down the hill was surprisingly quick, even though it _couldn't_ have been a short walk, and I suspected it was mostly exhaustion that made it go by so quickly. The songs helped also- because as we walked, the Dwarves began to sing again, their voices lacking the energy they may have had over the past few days... but perhaps what we'd survived had given them a fresh wave of energy for it.

By the time I got to the lake I was just ready to collapse _then and there_. I'd sunk down when Ori approached, tentative, looking as if he wished he didn't have to say whatever it was on his mind.

"Sorry-" He knelt, careful, and glanced back. "But... can you … can you do some healing? We'll get food ready. But you're the healer."

It occurred to me that no one else had started to settle down- they were collecting firewood, shuffling around, seeking out the Eagles. I felt bad suddenly for being so quick to shut down and tried to stand, slowly, shaking my head as if that'd shake the weariness out. "I lost my pack..."

"No- you didn't." Boromir approached, hoisting the pack down slowly, and knelt down with it. He started to rummage in it, searching for the first aid kit, adding, "Mine may be long gone down the side of the Misty Mountains- but I could not leave yours to the goblins."

"Oh, well, then of course I'll do some healing." I grimaced as I stood up slowly. With a smile I tried to sound a little less forced. Just a little bit more movement. Just a _tiny_ bit more. Then I could rest. "I can do that."

"What help do you need?" Boromir moved forward to grab my arm and my wrist, hoisting me up, adding, "I cannot do much else."

"Some hot water, probably, get it boiling a minute or two. Okay. Who am I starting with?" I went to brush hair out of my face, once again, and once again only found very short hair. It no longer felt as soft and fluffy as it had- it was kind of spikey, not that nice, but even still it was a nice discovery. Short hair. No wonder why I felt lighter.

I headed down the slope a few feet into the Dwarves. I ended up starting with Thorin, which probably was no great surprise, but he was fairly well off even without my help. Where he'd been bitten and dragged had barely broken skin.

"Wendy-" Thorin gazed down at me over his leg. "You did well."

"Thanks..." I didn't feel that way. I hesitated and admitted the truth. "I really didn't do much more than slow them down."

It wasn't being modest... it was the truth. I had gotten lucky shots in, probably due to the close proximity of goblins to me, but the wargs had been a much less successful.

"I know that bow was not the right size, it was built for a Dwarf, and what you had you used to our advantage."

Why was Thorin so bloody nice to me? It was true that he wasn't snuggling me, hugging me, or doing anything super affectionate... at times he was fairly cold and indifferent... but he wasn't behaving in the same way he was towards Bilbo. He was a bit of a jerk to Bilbo until today. The question suddenly rose in my mind and I had no obvious answers- nothing to explain what it was that'd make Thorin behave nicer to me than to Bilbo.

"I think I'll stick around." I told him. I was tempted to ask him WHY he wasn't a jerk to me- in all honesty I wasn't exactly much better than Bilbo in some ways- but it just … it just seemed like a rude thing to ask. So I busied myself with checking his leg instead.

"I suspected as much. If that is the case- then we will try and find you a bow made for your height." Thorin responded. He gazed up to the sky as the first of the Eagles appeared. Complete with a small mostly dead goat. The poor thing still struggled and bleated right up to the point it was dropped onto the ground and put out of its misery by Gloin's axe.

I couldn't afford to feel sorry for it. I focused on the leg itself. Thorin's trousers seemed to have done a good job protecting him- there were only a few areas where the teeth appeared to have actually broken the skin- but the few deep holes where they had sunk in it already looked red and horrible. Who knew what the hell kind of bacteria wargs carried in their mouths.

"What is it?" Thorin asked as I opened up the tube of antibacterial cream, leaning forward once more, his keen eyes on the tube. "I have not seen such a medicine."

"Medicine from where I'm from." I responded. "It'll help stop infection. Once I wash out your wound then it'll go on."

He didn't really have much choice but to accept what I was telling him. Thorin returned his attention to the sky, calling out to the others as several more eagles appeared carrying rabbits, clearly uneasy with just sitting around and doing nothing.

Boromir brought over the first of the boiling water and I tried to cool it in the lake, carefully lowering the flask of boiled water so that it didn't accidentally get contaminated by the lake itself, and then I got to work.

Thorin's leg was washed, dried, covered in the cream and covered. Then I moved around, avoiding where the remains of rabbit and goat were, my limbs heavy and head slow with exhaustion as I tended to each Dwarf in turn. Mostly they had bruises – nothing much I could do about with what I had- but I cleaned out each little or large bloody gash, stuck the antibacterial stuff in it, and if it was large enough, covered it.

It wasn't something I remembered from the movies. They didn't show just _how_ banged up the Dwarves had gotten. That was probably to be expected though. We'd all been chased around by whips, by chains, had arrows fired at us, fallen down a cliff on a platform (and there were multiple splinters I ended up pulling out of Bombor with tweezers thanks to that) and the end result was a lot of dried bloody cuts and nicks across mostly unprotected heads, hands and faces. Still- Thorin was the worst off with his leg.

They were so tired, so exhausted, that they couldn't even find the energy to do some grooming- it seemed all they had left was enough energy to cook meat on stick and bone and that was about it.

"Wendy." Boromir approached, quiet, just as I was finishing up. "We should give them Kingsfoil."

"What?" I blinked. My dazed mind forgot for the moment what it was.

"My men would drink a tea brewed from it when they had some pain or need of quick healing." Boromir added, still soft in voice, "And did not Strider also use it?"

"I remember that, sure, but I honestly have no clue what it's supposed to be good for..." I muttered quietly. Still he had a point. If it was safe enough to be chewed up and shoved in a wound then it was probably safe enough to be drunk in boiled water. It couldn't hurt. "Well, okay. Is any around though?"

"There is a reason that it is considered a weed." Boromir grinned in the dark. "I will collect it and prepare it- you simply need to feed it to the Dwarves."

"Thanks. Give me the easy job." I joked. He turned and I grasped his arm, sudden, Boromir turning with a questioning expression. "Hey... why … how'd you manage to not die this time?"

"When we have rested- we will have more than enough time tomorrow to talk of it." Boromir reassured me. He glanced past me to Gandalf, who seemed to be watching the two of us carefully, adding, "I imagine there will be much talk tomorrow of these things." Boromir affectionately 'knocked' me over the head, not much more than a brush of his hand, and turned to search in the darkness.

Had Gandalf had some part to play in Boromir's survival? Honestly at this point I wouldn't have been surprised at all. Nothing would have surprised me much.

I was surprised moments later- because the moment I'd sat down to eat with the Dwarves, Balin had appeared behind me, and I felt warm water trickle down my scalp.

"What are you doing?"

"You have cuts too, lass." Balin responded. "I've watched you. You can trust me with the technique, if not the secret, and just sit a moment. My hands are clean."

"Oh..." I felt warmth bloom in my chest at that, at his gentle tone and touch, having complete forgotten. I probably looked terrible, dried blood across my face, cuts on my scalp where the shortened hair had failed to protect it, and yet somehow I'd forgotten.

Maybe it was that reason that Thorin had been nicer today. I'd looked pretty shocking.

Balin was very gentle, a cloth in hand as he wiped up the dried blood across my face and down my scalp, Balin shuffling around as he searched, cleaned and put the cream on. It stung a little but at the same time, the warm water, and the tender touch, it made me start to feel so sleepy that before I knew it, I could barely take another bite without triggering a big yawn.

"You've done well." Balin knelt down beside me as he held out the cream. "We're impressed."

"I could be a bit fitter though." I smiled weakly. "I can barely eat- and you're all still moving around and eating."

"Bombur is not awake."

Bombur was eating. It took me a moment to realise what the hell the biggest Dwarf was doing- he was fast asleep, even snoring, and yet he was still eating. I gawked at the sight and Balin chuckled softly as he shook his head.

"Most of us are still in need of some strength or experience somewhere. We are not all warriors."

"It must have been odd for us to join you."

"Aye- it was very strange." Balin agreed as he rested heavily on the grass beside me and took a rabbit haunch from where it sat in the coals. "You offered help, even risked your own life, for our cause. It makes me wonder if you can return to your own home."

"It does?" I blinked at that. I took a bite of the rabbit, the stringy bits taking a little extra effort, fighting the urge to sleep. "Why?"

"I cannot explain- I just feel as if you too are unable to return to your home for whatever reason." Balin shrugged as he gazed sideways towards me.

I supposed I couldn't. Not really. I was here for however long it took, for whatever reason, and I couldn't go back. "I ...I still have one. It's just that I can't really walk back to it."

"I thought as much. Is it far?"

"Feet can't carry me there, I couldn't ride a horse there, and a ship couldn't sail me there." It was pretty poetic for me... but it satisfied Balin as he nodded, slow, thoughtful, stroking his dishevelled beard at the answer.

"Then you are, at least for now, as homeless as we are."

"I guess I am." I admitted. "But I have it still. Waiting. You don't have it yet."

"_Yet_." Balin repeated softly. He smiled at that. "Yes. We don't have our home yet."

"We will." Bifur grunted. He'd apparently got his voice back. I smiled at him, his head nodding towards us, as he jabbed his stick of goat into the flames.

"You can all rest." Gandalf spoke up. He sat a little distance away, a lighter figure amongst the dark trees, his staff resting in his hand as always. "I will keep watch tonight."

I nodded and lay back, shutting my eyes, the ground a relief for my head to find. With Balin on one side, Bofur on the other, and the sound of snoring in the air... I couldn't hang on. I fell asleep warm, surrounded, and surprisingly comforted by the sound of snoring.

Boromir woke me up at one point, urging me to drink, and I drank the slightly bitter tea without remembering our earlier conversation. It was only the next morning, as I was waking more refreshed than expected, that I'd remembered our conversation about Kingsfoil at all.

It was still dark when Thorin woke each of us, the coals warm and the grass damp from the night's moisture, his voice soft as he urged each of us to rise. I expected aching muscles and aching body... but as I rose to my feet, I felt as if I'd slept an entire night's sleep, my cuts less sore, neck a bit stiff from sleeping awkwardly, and my body tired but... but it was fine. Maybe I wasn't a hundred percent... but I felt okay.

Thorin paused with Boromir, the two of them exchanging a word on the other side of the remains of the fire, and then he gestured.

"Wet and soak the coals down to the dirt." Thorin ordered Bombur, who nodded, staggering off towards the lake. "The sun should rise in several hours. We'll leave as soon as the fire is wet."

I wasn't sure how he knew that, led alone how he'd managed to wake so early, but when Gandalf walked past I decided the wizard must have woken him.

"Wendy's medicine." Boromir spoke up.

There were groans around me, as Boromir approached each of the Dwarves with the drink, but to my utter surprise they each willingly drank the kingsfoil tea without so much as a grunt or a grumble.

"You're good at healing." Balin informed me, stretching, patting my back. "Good work."

"Shame it isn't better tasting." Kili muttered.

"Better it be bitter than not work at all." Gloin responded. He took a swig of the flask and passed it to me. "Drink up. You get the last drop."

I drank the last of it. Didn't care if I shared saliva with all of them... not right now, because the tea did seem to help my concentration and wakefulness return a little quicker.

Bombur stood up slowly. "Coals are wet. What about the meat?"

"Good." Thorin straightened. "Take the remains of the meat with you if you're hungry. We're leaving."

Boromir lifted my pack onto his back. "I got your healing kit, Wendy."

"Oh, thanks..." I still double checked to make sure I hadn't left anything here. Finding nothing, confirming my leaf necklace and ring were still concealed in the pocket, I straightened up and followed the others away from the lake.

* * *

A/N SO Wendy still has her pack!

Boromir will explain it at some point. :) Yes- we'll probably follow the movies a little till Mirkwood itself this time.


	12. Between resting

So it was back to walking. Walking and thinking.

Two things bothered me.

Firstly, that Gandalf had used Boromir's name, and not only that... he'd used the 'Blah blah son of Blah blah the first' typical wording of Middle Earth. Correctly. Considering that Boromir's own mother and father, apparently, hadn't yet been born that was a little dangerous for Gandalf to know. Wasn't it? Why couldn't I find myself able to trust this Gandalf when I'd trusted the Gandalf I'd known with everything I had?

Maybe that was just me. Not Gandalf.

The other thing that lingered at the back of my mind, clinging to it, was Bilbo and the ring. Boromir also.

Bilbo walked ahead of us, Boromir just ahead, and … it was there in my mind _at all times_. Again. The ring didn't feel the same way it used to, the way I remembered, that horrible lingering sense of dread and pressure, the way the deepest darkest fears, dreads, and secrets would rise up into my mind and worse still... provoke me to take the ring.

That urge sat there in the back of my mind. A squatter who had hooked himself into my brain and was setting up house. Or perhaps he'd moved back in- there was already that part of my mind affected by the evil object.

Evil object. That was what I reminded myself frequently that morning. Bilbo carried it because he could, because he would for a very long time, and it was 'quiet'.

The day wasn't so bad other than that, if you ignored the fact that we had a group of warg and orc coming for our blood, because once the sun had risen it was warm on our skin, the wind blowing in the 'right' direction (from behind us) and cooling warm skin, the walk itself through the forest fairly pleasant and calm.

Not that we ambled along, admiring flowers, far from that. Thorin didn't allow that for a moment. We didn't even stop for lunch- only for some of the water and to divide some of the cold meat from the night before.

I had to admit by the time we'd stopped for a 'quick rest' late, the darkness well and truly having taken over the daylight, with only the moonlight for light, I wasn't physically quite so good as I had been when we'd started out. Things ached, neck ached, body ached, and once again I had to just accept that I wasn't fit yet. Getting better... but it wasn't going to happen in a week or two.

The others seemed stiff and cranky as well. I wasn't the only one aching from head to toe.

They'd probably never admit it … but as soon as they had sat, Gloin asked about fire and 'Wendy's medicine', and the others had nodded.

"No fire tonight." Thorin responded. He gazed into the darkness. "They may not be close- but they will be closer every moment. We are not in low country now and a fire may be seen miles away. We must now move silently and carefully."

"You could chew the leaves..." I offered.

"Not a chance." Dwalin responded. He glanced to Gandalf, then to Thorin, grunting, "How about a smoke? Are we allowed that one comfort tonight?"

"I think it is safe tonight." Gandalf responded. He tossed something towards Dwalin, who caught it and took leaf from the package, before tossing it onwards. Gandalf tugged out his long pipe and within moments the first smoke started to rise in the dark, smoke and face illuminated by the glow of embers in the wizard's pipe.

"Won't want to risk the smell tomorrow. May as well enjoy it." Balin agreed. "Bofur- share some of your leaf also."

"Aye." Bofur agreed. He tugged out a leather pouch of his own and gave outstretched hands a pinch of the dried leaf. They fiddled with the leaf under the light of the moon, fiddled with the pipes for a minute or two, and then one by one handed them to Gandalf. He lit each one and handed each pipe back.

Bofur paused in front of myself and Boromir. "You want some?"

"No pipe..." I muttered. Plus I had no idea how to smoke one.

"Do women even smoke?" Ori shuffled over to sit near us. He inhaled slowly, his shoulders slumping, and with a slow exhale he smiled a big silly smile.

"I forgot you were a woman at all!" Gloin's smile was a little... surprising... as he released a puff of smoke in my direction. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen him smile before. "No beard and no hair."

"How could you forget?" Kili shook his head.

"She has a chest of a woman." Fili responded.

I wasn't sure if I was embarrassed … or amused! God god. Suddenly they were staring at my chest. For some reason this flustered Boromir more than it did myself.

"Shouldn't stare! She's still a Lady." He insisted. They ignored him.

"Bombur has a larger chest than she does. I understand." Bofur grinned as he glanced sideways to Bombur. Then to Fili and Kili. "Fili and Kili are far prettier than you at the moment, Wendy, with their long hair."

"Stare at his chest!" Boromir moved between myself and the Dwarves. "And... and... she's still got her looks. Even with her hair cut so."

They were teasing him. Not me.

I laughed, a soft laugh, and it was partly provoked by the look of mild outrage on Boromir's part. I still had that 'chest binding' thing on... and with that on they were right. Bombur would probably beat me in the chest department. Teasing Boromir a little, I agreed, "No, they might not be much now, but you should have seen them when I was pregnant or feeding my child."

"Enough of this topic!" Boromir stuttered. He threw his hands up in the air and moved towards Bofur. "I'll smoke."

"Leave the poor man alone." Dori shook his head.

"What's _he_ got to do with her chest?" Ori whispered.

More laughter, Kili slapping Ori's back, and then they returned their attention to their pipes and smoke. No wonder why Ori seemed like the youngest. He seemed pretty innocent.

"Quieten down now." Balin smiled as he shook bis head. "We'll only get a few hours to rest- use them well."

The Dwarves settled back, relaxing, combs appearing as they started to groom one another. Not for the first time I wondered if something was a little 'druggish' about that leaf- they'd relaxed within moments, smoke rings appearing, Gandalf relaxing as he laughed and teased them with elaborate smoke rings and shapes that seemed to glow long after they'd left the light of his pipe.

"Bilbo- I noticed no woman in your home. You never thought about marrying?"

"Marrying?" Bilbo exclaimed quietly. He gazed up at the stars and shook his head. "I suppose it was never something that crossed my mind. Marrying. No thank you."

"It's an adventure only a certain kind of man would dare undertake." Gandalf said softly.

"Aye, very true."

There were nods around the circle of Dwarves and smoke.

"It's worth every moment." Gloin relaxed back. He withdrew his silver picture frame, opening it, gazing at it in the slight moonlight. "Every adventure it brings."

"Unless you're married to an Elf." Thorin muttered. He glanced at me. Maybe it was on his mind. We would pass through Mirkwood sooner than later... was he reconsidering whether I'd be an asset?

I could only shrug helplessly. "It's … what it is. It doesn't really matter right now."

"It may in the future." Thorin turned away.

"Here. You should neaten your hair." Nori offered a small comb. Neat, simple, with thin teeth and a little sparkly stone of some kind in the end. "It's a spare. You can keep it. It's too small for me now."

"A spare!" I stared at it. "I can't take it."

"My mother gave it to me." He smiled at it, affectionate, and added, "Then she gave me a larger one. I have no need of the small one."

"Thankyou..." I took it. It seemed wrong to … to reject that kind of thing. I admired it as I asked, "Where do you keep all these things? You don't have packs!"

"Pockets."

"Speaking of packs-" Thorin spoke up.

"Another time, perhaps." Balin cut in, gentle, giving Thorin a look. "Now is not the time for that."

Huh? I wondered what that was about. Too relaxed to worry, I rested back, and shut my eyes as I leaned on my own cloak for comfort. Amazing what we could live without when we needed to... no bed, no pillow, but that was okay.

I drifted off and relaxed as voices, snores and the smell of pipe smoke mingled with the sounds of night creatures. It felt like only moments later before I was woken with a shove, as were the others, and we were once again following Gandalf and Thorin through the dark forest.

It was a while longer this time before I saw any sign of the sun, the stars turning slowly overhead between the tree canopies, and it was a little harder to walk in the dark without finding something to stumble over.

The feeling of 'relaxed' did start to go as the sun rose and we hastened our walk. We paused briefly after sunrise, taking a moment to sit, share the last of the cold meat around, and pass the water around, but Thorin had us up again almost as soon as we started to relax.

"We should walk quickly, quietly, and listen carefully." Gandalf agreed. "Come now- follow me."

Onwards we went, stomachs now complaining about the lack of food since the big meal the eagles had brought us, the pace growing a little faster, the need for quiet more obvious as Thorin took detours around paths deemed too noisy, and then along right up a shallow river that had us splashing (quietly) along the river for a good long time. I had to guess this was to hide our scent- the water wouldn't have kept much smells- and didn't argue. I was just glad I wore boots that were waterproof. Bilbo struggled more, his bare feet slipping and sliding in the water, continuously bending down to roll up his trousers.

He also seemed to struggle with the lack of food- more than once I caught him snatching blackberries off bushes, trying to sooth his growly stomach with them, his fingers turning purple more and more as the sun rolled over the cloud-strewn sky above us.

From there we started to walk around hills, rather than over them, always going in the direction that Thorin or Gandalf set. Sometimes Gandalf would vanish but he seemed to reappear silently, wordlessly, without any real word on where he'd been.

It was that same day that we finally caught sign of the orc pack hunting us- the distant howl of warg. Everyone froze, Bilbo nearly stumbling backwards as he lost his footing on the grassy slope, Dwalin grabbing him by the cuff of his velvet jacket only just in time.

"Was that what I thought it was?"

"Wargs. Yes. They're some miles off yet..." Gandalf informed us, as he listened quietly, all of us frozen still where we stood. "The sound echos through the valleys."

"Never the less it's a sign. We'll continue to move along the hills..." Thorin muttered, trailed off, as the same sound had us all tense up even more.

Boromir cleared his throat and spoke up, quiet, his head turned in the direction it seemed to come from. "They'll catch us if we do. Is there no where nearby we can hide?"

Oh, not again. He was going to 'suggest' something. I nudged him quietly, prodding his elbow, and Boromir pretty much ignored me.

"He's right." Gloin agreed. "We're on feet. They're riding. We cannot keep running."

Thorin scowled, muttering something in ...I assumed Dwarvish... and growle softly, "We cannot if we stand still- we may be able to outrun them to the road through Mirkwood-"

"Run? We lack food, we lack rest, and we lack the speed." Balin responded gently.

"Then we give up?"

"No." Gandalf shook his head. He was gazing around now, examining the landscape carefully, and added, "I know of a safe place. A home near here that, I believe, may offer us safety... or death."

"A home? Whos?" Bofur asked.

"Does it matter? It could be safe." Boromir muttered. He was restless, shifting on his feet, his fingers playing with the straps on the pack he carried.

"Or, as you said, it could be our death."

"It is a far better choice than being run down by wargs." Gandalf responded sharply. "We may find some food there at the very least. Bilbo will keep watch higher up, as we hurry there, for he is silent and quick on his feet. Many things miss him."

"Me?" Bilbo's voice rose several pitches. He nodded, straightening, his thumbs heading for his pockets as he brushed his hands over them... "I... I can, yes."

"Are we agreed?" Thorin asked. There were grunts, shrugs, including from myself, but no general outcry of protest. He nodded as he agreed. "Fine. You say this place may be safe- then we'll trust your guidance. Keep within sight of us, Bilbo, for we need to keep an eye on you."

"Good."

I had an idea where this was going. Big bear slash man. But... hadn't the sky then been all pink with the sun setting? The movie had made this all happen later. I wondered if that was, like before, a sign that we were somehow getting a little more 'time'. I hoped so.

"Wendy- focus!" Boromir gave me a little shove, as the others were already starting off, and off we went once again.

Maybe I was a little tired by this point, though I couldn't bring myself to think about it, my feet not quite lifting as high, my stomach cramping in the hunger pains. As we hurried along Gandalf spoke, answering questions, his impatience obvious in his short manner of response.

"Who is it? A man, that's who, and not the best tempered one. You must all be polite, and do your very best to not annoy him, for he has an appalling temper when angered-"

"Why stay there at all?" Dwalin muttered.

"-he has enough kindness when humoured." Gandalf answered. "More than enough for our current needs."

"Why not choose someone better tempered?"

"Shouldn't we know a bit more on this man?"

Other questions flew, lost by me as our boots moved over stone, their voices soft and low as Bilbo scuttled along the hill above us.

"No, we can not, and … his name is Beorn, if you must know. A skin changer." Gandalf snapped.

"Skin changer? Is he a furrier then?" Ori asked.

"No, no, and no! If you value your own skin, Ori, you will not speak that word again within a hundred miles of his house, land, or friends- nor any other word connected to fur or meat for the animals of these parts are his friends and under his protection! He is a skin changer- sometimes a bear, and sometimes a tall man."

Gandalf was hurrying along as he spoke, the dwarves having to move a little faster to catch him, and there was a whistle from above that clearly came from Bilbo- he'd scuttled down the hill very quickly.

"Sorry-" He spoke up, polite as ever, "-but I think I saw something."

"Was it the wargs?"

"Orc?"

"A bear?"

"No, no, and- goodness gracious me, are there _bears_ in this parts?" Bilbo seemed genuinely shocked by that last question.

"Apparently just one." Dwalin responded. "A large one that will crush us in a heartbeat."

This was not the answer Bilbo wanted to hear. He seemed a little taken back, skin paling once again, before he seemed to remember himself as he held something out. In his hand was a very large bee wrapped up in cloth – buzzing, still alive, but …

"It didn't sting me- but it followed me... have you ever seen such a large creature? There are more where we walk. Should we be worried?"

I hadn't ever seen something like it before. Neither had Boromir, clearly, and he seemed to take several steps back from the creature. It was massive- the size of a mouse, a very large fat mouse, and the stinger terrified me.

"What is it?"

"Kill it!"

"No!" Gandalf was quick, his swift reflexes grasping the bee gently from the Dwarves long before they could squash it, gentle as he released the bee into the air, and snapped, "That is one of his friends!"

"His friends! It's a bee!"

"Beorn is friends with _all_ the creatures of this land. Bees included!" Gandalf repeated firmly. "He has many bees here- for all he eats is cream and honey. We are on the outskirts of his bee fields then."

"All he eats is..." Dwalin exclaimed, throwing up his hands, muttering, "Then we will be as weak tomorrow as we are today! No meat! Honey and cream..."

"I'm _hungry_."

"Quiet." Thorin snapped. His voice lowered as he gestured towards Bilbo. "Keep a eye out and careful of where you put your feet. All of you. We have decided that we go there- and so we shall. Bilbo will keep watch."

We did exactly that- trying to hurry while not stepping on flower that may have contained a bee- but it was honestly not that hard. The bees were so obvious amongst the flowers, even on the slopes of the hills that rose and fell, that it would have been near impossible to miss them. Several times I wondered if the Dwarves were tempted to try and stomp on one as they got a little too close for comfort. The sky grew pink, the sun low on the horizon, streaks of peach and orange across the sky as the day's warmth vanished quickly. The bees slowly vanished, some of them hovering only for a little longer, their bodies slow and heavy with pollen.

"This way-"

A warg's howl, long and sharp and close, sending Bilbo scuttling down the hill as fast and as quiet as he could, bees rising in his path, his face white.

"What is it?"

"Is it the wargs?"

"Of course it is- you heard them too!"

"Doesn't mean it i-"

Another howl, the Dwarves arguing quietly, as Bilbo tried to speak.

"How far away?"

"Could you see them?"

"Couldn't be far..."

"Quiet! I saw them, I heard them, and..." Poor Bilbo finally got a word in edgewise, his breathing fast still, his hands shaking.

"Back up the slope- we will stay quiet, silent and still. Seek out the distance."

"The distance?"

"Aye- how close they are to us!" Gloin gave Bilbo a quick shove. "Quick and silent now, then back to us, we will not move."

"We will." Gandalf corrected him. He gestured to where the slopes jutted down, rocks only barely visible, a tiny gap there. "We will be between those rocks at the far end."

"Far end. Rocks. Okay. Got it." Bilbo agreed, squaring his shoulders, and turned towards the hill's crest. "I'll just take a peek..."

He turned and headed up the slope, face still white, but his walk unfaltering.

"Come."

We followed Gandalf down into the path between the stones, the grassy hills almost growing over the edge of each one, a path concealed and snaking away down for a good fifteen metres until it came to the bottom of the hill.

There we waited for Bilbo, as the sounds of the orc pack were muffled by the stone once again, other creatures of the night starting to wake as the sky darkened quickly.

"Well?" Dwalin pressed as Bilbo returned.

He slid down, his feet a little awkward as he stumbled towards us down the dark path, his breathing a little faster.

"Couple of leagues, perhaps-" Bilbo breathed in slowly. "-Going ...that way."

"East, then."

"For now."

Voices were barely above a whisper, we'd all gathered around to listen, the stones still muffling the sounds of the orc pack above.

"We have another problem." Bilbo continued as he exhaled slowly.

"What is it?"

"Did they see you? They saw you..." Gandalf muttered. His eyes went up to the path, sharp again, his body straight.

"No, that's not it." Bilbo responded. He was struggling to speak, breathing in and out, his poor tiny body clearly too buggered to keep this up much longer. "They didn't see me, no, nor know where you were..."

"Good!" Gandalf relaxed, smiled, as he added, "As good a burglar as we could ever need. As I said."

There was soft laughter, agreement, Bilbo's shoulder slapped.

"No-"

"No, they did see you?"

"Will you just listen!" Bilbo finally managed to get enough breath out. "There's something else there. Something large, chasing the orc pack, and it is far closer than they are..."

"What form did it take? Like a bear?"

"It was large, dark, and... it may have been a bear... or a very large dog..." Bilbo added, hesitant, doubting himself. "Much bigger than either..."

Neither I or Boromir doubted it was anything but a bear. Boromir was tightening the straps on the pack, checking his sword, and internally I was already mentally preparing myself for the running we'd have to do.

"I say we double back..."

"Get run down by a pack of orcs? No thank you!" Dori responded.

"Our host's house is not far from here- we might run there..."

"Might!" Bombur exclaimed.

"What choice do we have?"

No one answered.

"Then we run." Gandalf grasped his staff.

"Run?"

There was a great cry, a growl that was clearly not warg, and it echoed far worse than any warg had. Even Gandalf seemed a little spooked.

"Run!"

When he'd said 'run' I had thought... run. As in close.

We ran all right, right through the night, pursued by orc pack and by bear alike. When the orc pack sounded close, the bear sounded closer still, and I could only HOPE that this great man slash bear was more interested in tearing them to pieces than it was us. Hopefully those orc were … discussing fur, and meat, and squashing bees.

I couldn't explain where I got the energy to run, nor how anyone else did, but somehow it was done. We didn't break records for speed... and maybe we used our own weight to propel ourselves forward... but somehow, by some incredible miracle, we were still running at a slow run when the sun rose the next morning. Where the time had gone... I didn't know. The dark made it vanish into a timeless void of panting, breathing, growling and pain.

The sunshine didn't help as time seemed to reappear, the landscape mocking me with the slow passing of it, great long fields of flowers and bees crowding us as we raced across shallow streams and rivers.

If I had looked behind I was sure I may have seen either the bear OR orc pack. They were so loud. Horns blared from time to time. Was that the ...dinner horn?

I didn't look behind. Bad idea. I was too tired to find the energy to go through with that bad idea. I just followed the back in front of me- it was either Thorin or Kili but I couldn't find the energy to figure them out either- and then into forest once again.

It was within that forest, barely an hour after the sun had risen, that Gandalf started to really speak again. 'This way!' or 'Quickly!" or other such things, for it wasn't just me who was melting from the exhausting run, we were all struggling... from time to time, even though it was against our better judgement, a tree was found to lean on a moment.

Maybe it was because of this that the bear finally caught up.

We heard it first, this terrible growling scream, which sent a fresh wave of adrenaline throughout my body as Gandalf shouted once again, "Quickly, this way, run!" and set us going with a refreshed sprint through the trees.

No way to mistake it now even without turning around, the ground shook behind us, the bear screamed at us as it crashed through the forest, and my mind was CONVINCED it was just a few feet behind me. We leapt across roots, down the slope, darted around trees, and raced across a big dry field of … it was either dead grass or wheat, I didn't know or care.

"In the house! Run!"

What else was I going to do? Stop and test the field for edible qualities? Make wheat?

I sprinted along the field, Bombur sprinting faster than myself as he overtook us all, somehow by incredible feat of LUCK … not falling, not finding dam to crash into, my weary legs holding up for the entire run over hill, through tall golden strands of something, through the bees that swarmed here, there and everywhere, and through the gates between the tall green hedges.

"Get inside! Hurry!"

Bombur ran straight into the closed door ahead of me, Boromir right there behind him, the tall man opening the door as we all poured into the door.

He and I shoved it back shut, as we saw that very same great big black bear crash through the garden for the door, and we only just got the door slammed shut and bolted safely closed when it too nearly crashed into the door in the same way Bombur had.

"Close one..."

I sighed, nearly collapsing from relief, and turned to see Bilbo standing close by with his small sword drawn.

"What was that?" Ori exclaimed.

"That is our host. I told you- he is a skin changer. The bear is unpredictable, the man can be reasonable, however-" Gandalf turned and faced us all. "-he is not overly fond of Dwarves. Be on your _best behaviour_."

"As you said earlier." Balin nodded, agreeing.

We could hear the bear now, as it paced up and down outside, and then it seemed to be going.

I sighed again.

"He's leaving..." Ori said quietly, ear against the door, his hair once again dishevelled.

"Come away from there!" Dori grasped Ori, pulling him back. "It's not natural! None of it is! It's obvious... he's under some dark spell!"

"Don't be a fool." Gandalf responded fast, dark, as he turned to face Dori. "He's under no enchantment than his own. Some say he is a bear descended from the great and noble bears of the Mountains that lived before the giants came. Some say he is a man descended from the first men who lived before Smaug or any other dragon came to these lands, and before the goblins came into the hills out of the North. I believe he is the later is more likely, however, for I have heard of him speaking of the day those in the Mountains will perish and he will go back. " The last sentence was more to himself, than to us, as Gandalf turned to gaze around slowly. "We should be safe enough here till he returns as a man. Then- I will do the talking and you will all follow my instructions completely. Are we understood?"

"Understood."

There was muttered agreements all around as Gandalf gazed at each of us in turn, myself and Boromir included, before he relaxed.

"I recommend we all rest."

"Not such a bad idea, that." Gloin was already sitting.

"We'll rest for a few hours..." Thorin started.

"No. He may not return till this evening, and besides, we are all far too weary for that." Gandalf moved to sit down heavily on a bench. He sighed and shut his eyes a moment. "We may very well be here till tomorrow morning. I, myself, feel as if now would be a good time for my pipe."

"But the orc pack?" Kili asked.

"Won't they find us?"

"I doubt it." Gandalf responded. He was already inhaling the smoke from a lit pipe and with a slow exhale, his entire body slumping, he released a series of five different coloured smoke rings. One after the other. "They will not get within fifty miles of this building, if that. We have, at least for this time, a safe place to rest. Get some sleep, all of you, we will be safe here tonight."

No one else, except perhaps for Bombur, did a thing until Thorin reluctantly nodded.

"Then we will all rest." He agreed quietly. With a soft sigh of his own he slumped down, belt and axe going to one side, Thorin slowly stripping off his armour. "It may be worth to spend several hours without the weight of weapon or armour."

"_Exactly_." Gandalf agreed. He removed his great wizard hat, rubbed the top of his head slowly, and set the hat down on the bench beside him. "If anyone wishes a light for their pipe, now is the time to get it, for I too intend to rest."

Multiple dwarves approached him at that, as did Boromir, and within minutes the smell of sweet tobacco began to rise in the great hall.

A hand reached out and I stared up to Fili's outstretched hand.

"Better places than beside the door." Kili offered his hand also.

"Aye." Fili agreed. "Let's relax."

I stood up with their help, glad for it, and as I did... Boromir focused on us.

Boromir glanced in our direction, the twins smile growing a little as he stared at the three of us, and then they yanked me down to kiss either cheek.

"Good running." Fili added.

"I was impressed!" Kili agreed.

"Stop teasing poor Boromir." I smiled anyway.

"For you."

"Anything for you."

I shook my head as the twins moved away, pleased with their progress, Boromir moving across. The two of us headed into the great hall, careful to not run into great ox, chicken, duck or any other beast that was apparently also sheltering in here, and without any word spoken... we found a nice unused straw pile, clean smelling, and collapsed into it.

"You going to nap?" I asked.

"When I have finished this pipe... yes. Try and stop me." Boromir muttered. He yanked some of the straw under his head. "I would suggest the same for you."

"One cranky bear is enough. Careful with the straw though."

Boromir nodded as he slowly sat up. "I'll sit till I am finished. Better?"

"Yeah. Don't burn the place down. No one will like us for that." I agreed. I yawned, exhausted, and shut my eyes. Straw... really was comfortable. "Okay. _You_ smoke and _I_ nap. Night."

"Pleasant dreams."


	13. Resting means keeping busy

Napping came and went, interrupted by grumbling stomach, by snores, and by the shuffling of the animals around the room. I really didn't do much more in the end than lie there, half asleep, but in a sense that was enough for me for the time being. Lying there doing nothing was both a wonderful pleasure and a frustration- I wanted to sleep _and_ I wanted to move. Typical guilt. I had it at home as well- as a mum I rarely got a chance to rest but whenever I did I would suddenly feel as if there was something I was _supposed_ to be doing.

The urge to relax won.

I lay there in the straw, yawning from time to time, my muscles aching under still booted feet. I watched the mice crawl around the room, the smoke from pipes slowly mingle and fade away as it dispersed into the air, felt the air warm up as the sun- was it still summer or were those autumn leaves I'd seen running through the forest and the garden?- warmed the house. The musky smell of animals, straw and unwashed bodies made for an interesting... aroma... but it was far better than many other smells I could have mentioned.

No one else had issues relaxing. No one, that was, except for Thorin. I saw him stride past from time to time to windows or door, freed of armour, sword and heavy gear, but apparently unable to sit down for more than half an hour. A little goat with horns that seemed to be far too large for it tended to trail his footsteps and if he noticed... he didn't pay it any attention.

Of course after a little while I broke. I stood up, dusting off hay, Boromir leaning up sleepily as I wandered past. It was either lie there mostly awake and hungry... or do something productive.

Started off with walking, exploring, a little shy about it as I was in someones house. Everywhere I went there was a new animal, a pair of eyes or two following me around, for the house itself was built equally as much for these animals as it was for the big man. It was kind of beautiful in a way- there were stalls of all sizes, boxes with hay in the shelves where I saw mice scrabbling around under the straw, goats fast asleep curled up under dozing cows who chewed slow and relaxed with no concern for the woman who wandered past them and stared. Dogs were around too, timid creatures who watched us from safe distances, cats lazing about, even a mare and her foal at one end.

The movie hadn't shown half of the actual size of the place nor the amount of animals inside. I was kind of amazed by it all.

Of course there was furniture, very large furniture, chairs that would have been hard even for a fully grown man to reach, a chess set with a game in progress- I honestly hoped that the Dwarves hadn't been using it if he had- chests of the 'treasure chest' variety and chests of the drawer variety, shelves with plates, cups, mugs and goblets piled up neatly, as well as what looked to be washing drying high up in the sunshine. A great long table, with large stumps for stools and a couple of carved chairs, candles in candle holders, beautiful feathers, dried or drying herbs and flowers lining the walls instead of paintings and pictures, and a kitchen area towards the other end where there was a pump.

The building itself was very high- like a massive barn, pointed top, great heavy beams of wood exposed and making for roosting or resting places for birds, rats and other things... I thought I saw a lizard up there at some point... as well as several windows that remained open.

The funny thing was though... this place was impeccably clean.

"It's clean, isn't it?" Bilbo asked, as he wandered over to me, offering a flask of water. "I keep thinkng the animals will make a mess..."

"They're probably waiting to go outside right now." I agreed. It was what, mid morning? They didn't seem that anxious about it and with a bear outside just a few hours before I didn't really want to open the door. Face to face with a bear... bad idea. "At least some of them can fly in and out."

"Or crawl. I saw a snake using the beams as a road." Bilbo agreed.

He sat down on a very large stool beside me with quite a bit of effort.

"Big person lives here..."

"I think Gandalf knows what he's doing." Bilbo muttered. He looked to where the wizard dozed, leaning against a pile of straw, adding, "Usually."

"He usually does." I agreed quietly. "I trust him."

Once I'd handed back the water to Bilbo he took a drink and eyed the pump nearby. "I wonder if... the water is safe?"

"Probably." I wasn't sure myself but... why wouldn't it be? It was just water.

"Have you got any food in your pack?" Bilbo asked quietly. "To share?"

"I don't think so..." I admitted. Lots of other stuff... but no food. I looked back to Boromir who shook his head as well. "No. Or we'd be eating it right now."

"I thought as much." Bilbo sighed, regretful, and scratched his head. "You don't seem the kind to hide it. I can't sleep though till I eat."

"I can't either now. Probably." That might change. Who could say? I slid onto one of the stumps as well with a soft sigh. "Maybe we should do something physically... demanding. It'll help us rest. Take our mind off our stomachs."

"It might work... but what do you suggest?"

I considered this. Run laps around the house? Ride cows? Ride goats? I caught sight of firewood nearby, big heavy logs and smaller twigs, some of the dried wood long enough and thick enough to pretend to be a 'sword'.

What else? When in Middle Earth... try to not die. Training wasn't such a bad idea.

"Well, with those sticks over there, we could get Boromir to train us." I offered. "He know a little and it can't hurt to do it. The three of us can get a stick and try and pretend we're not hungry."

"No, it can't hurt. All right!" Bilbo stood up, sliding forward, and stretched as he smiled. "Let's give that a go."

Bilbo got the sticks. I got the Boromir. He grumbled a little, muttering to himself, but he didn't seem able to sleep anymore than we had been able to. With the Dwarves all passed out or smoking at the other end of the hall, Gandalf watching us across the distance, and a cat coming to sit on the table to watch, Bilbo and myself let Boromir run us over 'easy' training.

Of course on some level it was hard, both myself and Bilbo were still very physically exhausted and starving, and we stumbled quite a bit as we struggled with balance from time to time.

Still it was good in a sense just to be doing _something_. It wasn't long before Thorin came across and watched us as well, quiet, a pipe out as he smoked. He didn't comment, didn't say a word, but he seemed to approve.

Maybe.

Maybe he just wanted something to distract him as well.

We spent about an hour doing that, a good hour of exhausting work, Dwarves waking and joining us at the end, but after an hour no one could pretend they weren't busting to go to the toilet. So that was the next problem- and it was only solved by having us go out one at a time while the rest kept watch.

It was very strange to try and do it while I was paranoid about a bloody angry bear, amused Dwarves peering out windows pretending they weren't equally as curious about me as they were about it, and do it as fast as I could without … not cleaning up.

God. I wanted a bath so bad.

Once we'd all managed people settled down, Bilbo resting with his body worn out a little, the smoke from pipes and the physical toll drawing everyone back down onto their backsides for another rest.

Boromir settled down near me, relaxing, and then he suddenly realised. "Oh! I have not told you how I did not fall!"

Boromir blinked.

"How did you not fall?" Bilbo peered across from where he had rested nearby. "I wondered about that."

"This..." Boromir reached out to where we'd left the pack and returned with something. A metal rod with a sharp stabby bit. "...for I had foreseen the giants-" He shot me a look at that, "-and had time to retrieve this from Wendy's pack."

"Did you have one?"

"She has the feet of an Elf sometimes. She does not need one." Boromir responded lightly. He unfolded the sharp spike and let Bilbo take it. Plus- he'd more or less shoved me to the 'front' of the line so I hadn't been on the other knee. "That spike is designed to penetrate rock in times such as that. Rock climbers from her world use them sometimes."

"Is it easy to use?" Bilbo asked as he touched the tip.

"No... it takes strength." Boromir shook his head. "It was a far harder matter than I anticipated- but it worked. I slid down some distance, trying to get it to work, and by the time it clung to stone I nearly lost it. Once I had rested a moment I climbed back up and sought the likely cave..."

"Which was a trap." I added quietly. Oh. That made sense. Boromir was like a fricken cat these days. It was an advantage to know the future... I wondered if he now carried bug spray or insect repellent for the spiders coming up. Did we even have some? I wasn't sure.

"Yes- within seconds of finding that cave I was falling and brought to the group." Boromir agreed. He sat down as Bilbo offered the stone pick, taking it, and folding it away carefully. "It is a good tool."

"You can hang onto it then." I muttered, and after a thought, slapped at him. "And stop flirting with death."

Boromir grabbed my hand, surprisingly gentle, and it felt like he held it for a few seconds longer than nessery. Maybe that was me though. He shrugged as he let go. "It flirts with me. Still, giants are something I was a little concerned over, and it was lucky I had been..."

"Giants?" Gandalf queried as he raised an eyebrow.

"_Stone_ giants." Bilbo launched into the tale, more enthusiastic now, his hand gestures and voice mesmerising. He had the three of us hanging onto his every word.

Gandalf smiled and nodded, before shaking his head, adding, "A tale that should be told for generations. It would scandalise gentle hobbit society."

They continued to talk, Boromir joining in, but I started to zone out a little as I watched the mice wander across the rafters above us. After a few minutes of conversation I got up and wandered around the room. I had barely looked at it – first napping, then teasing, then this... and I had to admit I was impressed.

When I had finally mustered up some energy I leaned up, slowly, and bent down to unlace my own boots. It felt so good, so amazingly orgasmically good, to get my feet out of them for the first time in god knew how long, so much so that I pretended I couldn't smell my feet. The way the wooden floorboards felt, all lovely and smooth, and the straw tickling the pink sweaty skin, and the wriggling of freed toes... oh my god.

Boromir hadn't taken his off either. I bent across, sliding on the straw a little as I went to unlace his boots, and he barely stirred from his sleep as I loosened the laces and tugged one boot off, then the other, and then his socks. Once again I ignored the smell- instead, I gathered up a handful of straw, and very gently rubbed the feet. Partly to make the smell stop. Partly because I knew how good it'd feel... and really, I wanted to be nice.

I wasn't sure why I wanted to do it. I just … maybe I was still a little shaken from before, maybe it was just because I was glad he was alive, maybe it was just to be nice- and it was pretty much what I craved. Foot rub. After all that walking slash running it would be AMAZING.

Boromir opened one eyebrow as I rubbed his feet with the handful of straw, but didn't protest, just sighed and stretched. "One could get used to such treatment."

"One better not." I warned him. "I expect it in return."

"An exchange seems fair enough."

Boromir wriggled his toes, slowly, twisting his foot as I gently ran the straw over them, and slowly sat up to watch. He pulled off his jacket one arm at a time, folding it as he slid it to one side, and smiled a sleepy smile as he pressed the foot I was rubbing into my hand. "Friends like you don't come often enough..."

"Thanks. I guess the same can be said for you. There's only one of you."

"A blessing for the world."

"Egotist." I gave his foot a whack, only to get shoved by the sole of his feet, and mock-scrambled to one side. "That foot is too filthy to be rubbed on me..."

"Oh, so that's the reason for the straw!" He grinned wider, twisting as his feet headed for me, and I stood up. I gave him a shove, a quick kick, and a fairly sharp yank I fell back onto the ground, Boromir holding me there, straw going everywhere. Everything he did very gentle, very careful of not actually hurting me, though it probably looked pretty violent from outside.

He gazed down at me, still grinning, and shook his head.

God. Boromir looked so much healthier than he had when we'd first reunited. All alive, skin cleaner, eyes clearer, and _happy_.

"How long has it been since you'd had a drink?"

"It has been over two weeks now."

He must have known the exact number, probably even down to the last hour, but I didn't question it much more. Boromir looked happier, healthier, and relaxed.

This entire exchange was quiet, there was no way we could be heard over the snores and I suspected that to wake Dwarves when they didn't want to be woken was going to be very difficult anyway, but I suspected we were being watched. I couldn't tell who by. Thorin, maybe, he had been pacing around a lot. Or Bilbo?

I didn't really mind though. What was there to be embarrassed about? Yet there was something about this, something deep down, that did make me uneasy. I couldn't explain it.

Boromir jumped, startled he lifted his arm to discover a small brown mouse clinging to his arm, Boromir's utter shock and fright hilarious to me. God. It wasn't THAT BAD.

"Calm down!"

"It's dirty!"

"Honestly." I grasped for the mouse before he could hurt it, and carefully lifted it up off Boromir. "It's probably cleaner than any of us. Mice clean themselves all the time."

"It's not that bad... careful, little buddy, this ain't a house of Elves." I reached out to grasp the mouse and added, "You can't just run around all over these bodies... they might not even notice you're there."

"House of Elves?"

I slid up to my feet, slowly, and put the mouse higher up out of crushing dwarven bodies or scared big blonde men. "Side effect of where I live. Nothing gets killed. Nothing. Spiders, ants, mice, possums in the roof, they're all welcomed..." I pretended to sigh, be exasperated, but actually I didn't mind it at all. The mouse watched me, then rested back, and started to clean itself. "But it isn't so bad."

That made Boromir laugh. "Doesn't this worry you? With a young child? All these creatures..."

"He talks to them. I think they talk back." I slid down to sit beside him, feeling an arm slide around my waist, the gesture so casual and natural that … I didn't know how to feel about it. It did feel natural. All of this, the smile, teasing, laughing, and I didn't know why this bothered me.

"Talk?"

"Look, if eagles can talk to Gandalf, Ents to hobbits, then I don't doubt it when my boy says he can talk to the possum in the roof and it won't wake me up again." I shook my head, laughing softly at the memory.

"What?"

"One of the nights I was alone in the house with Cele, a possum kept me up all night, and the next morning silver-hair raced in all ready for cuddles... and I just flat out growled at him. He didn't even ask, he just headed out for the balcony, shouted at the possum to be quieter, and I didn't hear it again." I smiled as I shut my eyes, picturing him, my gorgeous little boy. He'd always do that, race in, pull curtains wide open, and would be sliding under the sheets within seconds. In summer that could mean five in the morning... but thankfully, Legolas was usually awake by then, and the two of them would vanish outside to let me sleep. Usually.

I missed it now, missed the peace and quiet of that property, missed my boy, missed the way he came to wake me up with the sun every morning regardless of the time. "When you come to visit, to stay, you need to remember that. Everything is protected. We have jars specially labelled for spider rescue."

"Spider rescue?"

"They can't stay inside. My rule. They can have the garden, under the deck, and the garage. I don't mind dogs in the house though..."

"You like dogs?"

"Love them." I admitted, smiling a little, adding, "I'm still trying to convince the Elves to let me have them on the propert-"

I was cut off by tails. Five... no... eight dogs had surrounded me, I was surrounded by five very happy, very wriggly dogs, tongues licking, noses sniffing, ranging from small and scruffy looking to a tall 'small pony' sized great dane-like creature.

Woah.

Over the backs of them it looked like Boromir was trying to not laugh.

"Settle down..." I muttered. "I have two hands and you have a lot of backs. Where did you all come from? You were all hiding before."

"They must have heard that you like dogs." Boromir grinned. "I will come and give you a dog or two. You cannot refuse a gift- it would be rude."

The dogs had started to settle down now, some wandering off, leaving me with three very happy mutts that curled up nearby to watch us both. It was another confirmation that there was more going on here than 'just plain animals'... I had to be careful what I said.

Clearly there were quite a few animals in here. I didn't remember all of the animals from the movie, not exactly, but the movie hadn't … hadn't even BEGUN to show what kind of a zoo was in here... and it had made the house far too small. This place was _very large_.

The dogs calmed down.

"I've missed you." Boromir leaned against me, sudden, his prickly cheek against my shoulder. He shut his eyes. "You seem happy there."

"I've missed you too." When he visited. I had no doubt he would now. Everything would be okay, we'd bring him home, and we'd try and help. The courts may have been more supportive if he clearly had more support around him, maybe, and if not... we'd find a way.

"Will he be glad to see me? After..."

"You kidding?" I shook my head. I knew he meant Legolas. "Fellowship. You're family. You always will be. Yes- he will and he misses you too."

Boromir sighed, shifting back down onto the straw, something close to peace relaxing his face. "You do not know how much I have needed to hear that. Sometimes I would think that … that I was remembered only for the things I did wrong. They were terrible things."

"No." I insisted. God.

How long had he lived like that? Tormenting himself?

I lay down as well in the straw. Rested my head on my arm, relaxing, Boromir settling down as well, like the two of us were getting ready for more rest. It was as good a time as any to ask the question that'd been burning in the back of my brain for the last 'two or so' weeks. It was so calm, so peaceful, and I shut my eyes.

It wouldn't stay this way long. Soon I would be facing a much younger Legolas.

"Why did Legolas … why did he keep saying he was sorry?" I mused quietly to myself, the wooden floor creaking as Boromir shifted in position, and sighed. I didn't... I didn't know what to expect. Ideally we'd pass by Legolas, he'd remember me but wouldn't have much more of an impression till later, and … that'd work pretty good considering.

I didn't feel like it was going t be that simple. Not with the regret on Legolas' face. I had this horrible feeling that Mirkwood and the Elves that lived there were going to be far different from what I was used to. Had he meant that the Elves would be … nastier? Legolas had mentioned that they were 'wilder'. Considered different, most of them didn't even bother to learn to read or write, their real passion and storytelling through art, through song, through ritual and through memory that rarely failed over their extremely long lifespans.

Maybe they wouldn't be so bad.

So was it … was it Legolas himself?

Some Elves considered it a curse.

A curse. The 'thing' we had.

I didn't know, that was the bottom line, and I didn't feel all that excited to find out what kind of Elf Legolas was before we'd met. I was starting to expect bad things.

God, _I missed them_ though. I missed him so much, those subtle brushes of fingers over my back, over my neck, face, arm, always present even when we were focused on different things, and the way he smelt. I missed the way he smelt. Legolas had a smell and it was, as corny as it seemed, remarkably like a rainforest... earthy, musky, and 'green'. Probably in part to do with the amount of time he spent outside. I missed Cele, his laugh, his excitement at new things (of which there were a lot for him), and the way he just ran from dawn to dusk with only the occasional collapse for a puppy nap.

I hoped he was doing okay at his school. Taking his morning snacks. Not getting teased. He'd loved the couple of days they'd done at primary school last year for kinder kids and half days would go for a few months still... so he could get used to it.

Gah. I sighed, restless, and decided I'd rested enough. I opened my eyes.

"You all right?"

"Sorry." I smiled weakly as I opened one eye. "Missing things. People."

"Of course you are. I wish I could be of better help." Boromir responded quietly. He shut his eyes. "We all miss something. Or someone."

"Boromir? Who do you miss... and what happened to you?" I didn't mean the Misty Mountains. Well, I supposed I did in part, but … at this moment, it was more than that.

Boromir opened his mouth to open, shut it, hesitating. He reached out to tug a piece of straw off my head- didn't even NEED hair to cling to apparently- and then as he opened his mouth to answer, Dwarves wandered past.

"I'm telling you- we should eat!" Gloin muttered. "I'm starved and there's food aplenty!"

"And I tell you I think we should wait till Gandalf wakes and says we should." Ori insisted, nervous, and glanced down at us. "Sorry... didn't mean to wake you..."

"We're awake." Boromir muttered. He stood up, sudden, and stretched. "I'm awake."

I could see that... but what about what I'd asked?

He glanced down at me, muttered ,"Later," and wandered off after the Dwarves.

Okay then. That was … weird.

It only made me feel even more certain that Boromir had been through some kind of hell. Which I could have helped to prevent if I hadn't been selfish like I had been. I watched him vanish past the cows,not even looking back, more willing to focus on Dwarves and the current moment than he was to say anything about his past.

Well, he didn't have to tell me.

I sighed, a long deep sigh, and rolled onto my back.

There wasn't another chance to ask that day, because as we all came out of our 'naps' and let the hunger reappear, things got a little tense anyway. Hungry Dwarves, hungry Hobbit, hungry wizard and two hungry 'men' made for a not so pleasant atmosphere. Gandalf insisted on waiting for the host … and I could see his point. It'd be kind of mean to eat our host's food when he hadn't even given us permission to stay here. I was sure that a couple of the dwarves had been eyeballing one of the small goats with something that couldn't be mistaken for friendship.

Still I couldn't blame them. It had been days since we'd had the small feast of Eagle-brought meat and even the strongest couldn't be blamed for wanting more food. Bombur looked dreadful, he didn't talk and just sat around, and poor Bilbo once again looked like he was starting to melt... he was pretty quiet as he wandered around and tried to occupy himself by mending his jacket.

By mid-afternoon, at least I assumed it was that by the light outside, most had given up on arguing with Gandalf. Grumpy smelly bodies found the sweet smelling hay, lured there by the sheer joy of being freed of armour, weapons and heavy items, and had collapsed back down. It had grown warm inside and most of the Dwarves had stripped their tunics off, except for Ori who seemed far too shy around me, and Boromir copied them very quickly.

"You can take yours off too, if you want..." Fili offered, somehow managing a straight face, only to get whacked across the head by Gloin who was in the process of walking past. He grinned at his twin, as Boromir also shot them a look, and the two of them wandered off shirtless to flop against a wall together.

Boromir was behaving a little odd, though he seemed happy enough still, not exactly being hostile towards me. He was just … avoiding me. Sometimes we'd make eye contact, or even stand side by side, but it still felt like some kind of distance had been put there by him. I wanted to scream at him, leap over this Boromir-made chasm, and shake him till he explained it... but I resisted.

Maybe I just had to let it happen. Being a friend didn't mean I had to be told everything... it just meant I had to be there for when they needed to talk about it.

It was just everyone had given up on food, given up arguing for food, and had passed out in the mid-afternoon heat... that he returned.

The doors opened, slowly, first allowing in the smell of flowers, straw, garden and the gentle hum of bees that flew inside. A breeze blew in, teasing the hanging herbs and flowers, and with it came Beorn himself.

I gazed up slowly as the door opened from outside, heavy boots on the floor, a man taller than any I had ever seen in my life making his way slow and easy into the building. He didn't seem all that shocked to find a bunch of Dwarves in his home, nor did he seem that angry, just paused a moment and then when Gandalf rose to his feet, Beorn and he went to one side to talk quietly.

There was a glance in my direction, sudden, both of them staring directly at me.

I didn't feel threatened... it was weird, it just felt as if it was okay. Okay for me to go over there. There were no words or calling... but as I stood up slowly, walking barefoot across the straw-strewn wooden planks, they clearly did not mind me coming.

"There- Wendy will confirm it."

"Confirm it?"

"The story."

Beorn knelt down, peering at me, his face wizened and yet alive with energy, eyebrows long and streaked with white, his hair knotted and dreadlocked in most places. "Well, little woman?"

"Story?" I wasn't sure … what kind of story Gandalf expected. The truth? I tried it- it was the best thing my brain could come up with. God. I was so hungry. "We came across Mountains, nearly got crushed by stone giants, slept in a cave, ran away from goblins after we killed their King, and then ran here away from a bea... oh, I guess..."

"From myself, you mean, and it was wise to do so." Beorn stood up slowly as he stretched. "I see. You have told me a tale hard to believe, Gandalf, and you will forgive me if I do not believe its straight away. However-" He turned to look at me again, face gentling, adding, "-It has been repeated by the one the mouse and dogs liked. Dogs may like anything but mice ..."

Oh. Right. I hadn't … thought of that. I smiled faintly as a wet nose pushed into my hand from beside me. One of the dogs had wriggled up to my side and nuzzled into my hand, urging me to stroke it, tail whipping from side to side again. There was a mouse on top of its back.

"Then you will let us remain?" Gandalf queried gently.

"I will and I will feed you all." Beorn agreed.

Somehow this magically got EVERYONE up within a minute. Dwarves appeared, approaching, Bilbo behind, Boromir also there.

"I think-" Gandalf chuckled, "-you may have many hands to assist you if you wish them."

* * *

Sorry for delay... been really HOT some days and it's a nightmare just to touch the keyboard!

Also I don't like tormenting Boromir. Even if Wendy doesn't know it's happening. Poor old guy deserves a break.


	14. The house of Beorn

Morning was interesting.

Once the doors had been flung wide open all manner of creatures came and went as we followed Beorn's instructions. Out went a few Dwarves into the garden, Bilbo right there with them as an 'expert' in (I supposed they assumed this because he lived under a hill) garden related things, Boromir off with another couple of Dwarves to milk the cows that had already wandered out into the green yard, and for some reason I ended up … doing nothing.

Beorn churned more cream into butter, Gandalf there assisting with the stove, it was a nice lazy way to spend a warm su... or was it autumn now?... afternoon. Hard to believe that just this morning we'd been running full pelt from this big man in bear shape. Or that yesterday it had been from an orc didn't seem concerned, nor did Beorn, and I didn't want to spoil the mood. They knew what was out there. I had no doubts about that.

With very little to do, myself and some of the older Dwarves ended up wandering around outside, watching as the animals froliked outside. Including a herd of horses that were all sizes, from the ponies to the larger horses, full of joy as they pranced and rolled in the sunshine.

I ended up relaxing on the grass in the lawn, bare feet wriggling in the grass, more or less alone outside. The Dwarves grumbled and muttered about 'brightness'... it seemed the hungrier they got, the crankier they got, and the more things they found faults with. Maybe they just genuinely didn't like sunshine. Who knew. They did spend most of their lives underground.

"Hello." Bilbo wandered out, gazing around, and with a slump flopped on the ground beside me. There was a hesitation as he gazed behind him, then a pause, before he gave in and flopped onto his back in the grass. "Never thought I'd _miss_ the possibility of grass stains."

"I know." I agreed quietly. I flopped onto my back as well and gazed up to the sky. "Having the time to get them seems like a luxury."

"Exactly." Bilbo nodded. "I feel like we should be doing something."

We both sighed, relaxed, the sun warm on our skin. Dogs ran past, tails visable in my line of vision, and then several came across to see what we were up to. They sniffed, licked, and seemed to be considering lying on us, which naturally had us both sit up pretty fast. A little fluffy one crawlde into my lap with no shyness, a larger one trying to do the same with Bilbo, several more appearing from all sides.

"They know I'm weak to the dog cuddle... but it's not too late for you... you can run..." I joked, amused, and gently pried the little one out from my lap.

"I think it's also too late for me." Bilbo's voice came from a dog's grinning face, a big short haired pointer type overshadowing him as it snuggled up to his legs, tongue lolling out and drooling down.

I grabbed a stick. The dogs froze, all of them, considering what I was doing.

The moment I flung it there was an explosion of dog hair, dog feet, dog voices, running for the sheer joy of life as they chased that stick, stumbling and skidding and _excited_ beyond belief … all at the simple throw of a stick.

"Now you've started it..." Bilbo warned.

More dogs were approaching. Good god... how many of these things did Beorn have?

Sticks were offered but as soon as one was dropped there would be a flash of fur and tail as another dog raced past, paused only a second to grab the stick, and would be off again across the gardens tail wagging, ears blown back, with half a dozen dogs chasing it. Others ended up trying to tug it away from each other, tug-a-wars ensuring nearby, a chaotic scene of joy and stick appreciation...

At least they seemed to be entertaining themselves.

"They know the game." I relaxed back. It was a shame I hadn't brought tennis balls. Lots of them. I had this urge to just... fling a dozen tennis balls down the hill, run inside for cover, and let the dog pack go for it. "We might not get to relax though."

I felt something crawl onto me again, expecting a dog, but instead it was a large orange cat that was settling itself down on my lap without so much as a look at me. From that moment on, if any dog tried to approach, it just took one look from the cat to have the mutts backing off tail between their legs.

That made things a little calmer, dogs giving up and vanishing off down the hill with sticks, my body used as a cat warmer. I relaxed back and waited for dinner.

Gandalf called us inside just as it was starting to go dark.

The building glowed with warmth. We went back inside to find the majority of the dining and kitchen area set glowing by two great red candles, thick and tall, that sat in the middle of the table and gave off a surprising amount of light. Torches flickered around the walls inside and outside. There was a fire in the hearth now, a good large one that looked as if it would go for hours yet, water boiling on the stove nearby in a massive pot of water, and goats... _goats_... were placing plates and spoons down on the table.

There was a feast that silenced even the grumpy Dwarves, bowls of clotted cream, butter, thickened cream, bread, honey, fruit from the gardens, vegetables, jugs of fresh milk, and more jugs of ale- Boromir seemed to be ignoring it for the time being but he seemed a little tense- as well as some kind of thick soup.

As we sat down to it, Boromir sitting right beside me at the end of the table, any dislike Beorn had of Dwarves was overshadowed by the simple need for company. He talked, talked in his low deep growly voice of all kinds of things, tales of the woods around his home, about the Mirkwood forest, the wilds that separated us from the place we were trying to go to. It was equally as much warning as it was story telling- because from the way he talked about Mirkwood, it was clear that we would not want to hang around there.

That was probably the smartest thing to do given what I remembered from the movie. Giant spiders. Angry Elves. That ancient Dwarf-Elf conflict thing... those two races with long lives and _longer_ memories.

If the Dwarves were grumbly about wanting meat they didn't show it. Too hungry. Words weren't spoken either, not even a raised eyebrow as animals wandered past 'serving' us bowls or plates of something, though Bilbo and myself exchanged a look as a little goat jumped nimbly up onto the table, delicately placed down a bowl of apples, then jumped back down.

It wasn't that I minded... it was just... it was a goat. On a table covered in food.

As the food vanished, ale vanished- I ended up being the barrier between Boromir and the ale somehow and the Dwarves caught on quickly that I wasn't going to let it come near us- into Dwarf, wizard and hobbit stomachs, the Dwarves began to relax and talk themselves. Tales of gold, silver, mining, gems, jewels, crafting, smithing, things that seemed to animate them and wake them up... but Beorn was almost dozing through it all.

I had to agree. It was nice … but it was a little boring to listen to.

Boromir leaned across as another tale started, another wondrous gem discovery, and murmured, "Thank you..."

"For?"

"Keeping the ale from this corner."

I smiled and grasped his hand, squeezing it, his fingers tight as he held onto my hand a moment. Boromir sighed and rested his forehead on his arm.

"I am a ruined man, Wendy... I am not the same man I was once..."

"No... you're not." I turned away now, voice quiet, gently nudging him with my knee. "Didn't Shakespeare say the best men are moulded out of faults? And they become much more the better, for being a little bad..."

It wasn't an exact quote, I suspected, but it was one I liked.

He gazed up at me, dark shadows under his eyes, the exhaustion still there. Maybe the food helped him... helped him open up, that was. "Made better for being a little bad?"

Boromir had issues hiding his emotions now. He sighed and shut his eyes.

"Sometimes you do need to break something apart to rebuild it better." I rubbed his back gently. He wasn't drunk, that wasn't the reason, but he was clearly tired. "You're doing that right now, right? You're becoming a better person..."

"Fifteen days and six hours..." He muttered, eyes going to a jug of ale that was passed across the table, and groaned softly. "I would drink but... but... I have things that are more important."

"You do. And-" I added, quietly, "-you aren't a ruined man. At all. I think you're a better man than you were when we met. You had a bit of an ego then..."

"I did, didn't I?" That made him smile, as he leaned up, his hand still around mine. "I could not believe that I would ever fall. From the moment I tried to harm the hobbit..."

"You haven't fallen." I insisted. God. Why did he have to torment himself like this? He'd made up for it a dozen times since he'd attacked Frodo... and yet Boromir still let guilt eat at him.

"I … I know I have not. I miss my old life though, Wendy, I miss Gondor. My brother. I miss knowing the land I walk on, knowing the people I live around, and … you saved my life, but I sometimes feel as if I am just a shadow in a land I cannot begin to understand." Boromir sighed. He gazed at his plate. "I feel as if my life is a punishment from the Lady Galadriel... forced to live in strange lands... as punishment..."

"No. You tried to save everyone." Multiple times! "It's not punishment..."

"Ignore me. I am weary." Boromir's face was tired, lined, strained as he smiled wearily at me. "I am not a young man anymore- and when I am tired, sometimes I do need to consider the past, things I have done wrong, things I would do right were I given another chance. Let me have tonight alone to think."

"All right..."

Boromir stood up slowly, rising, and he took his bowl and cup of milk to the far corner of the hall, resting down in a corner. I watched him go, sighed, and … turned back to my food.

I didn't know what to do except not drink as well. Drinking wouldn't be fair on him.

"Everything all right, lass?" Balin asked gently, from beside me, his eyes going behind me to where Boromir sat. "You two have a quarrel?"

"No. I think he's haunted by old regrets." I responded quietly. "And trying to avoid creating new regrets." It hadn't been easy for him."

"He has a lot of pride- as do most men." Balin agreed gently. "Give him time. You can sleep near us."

"Always." I agreed, voice soft, and sighed. I wanted to help. It was partly my responsibility that he'd become this way, because I just couldn't deal with him dying, and dying would have been … as horrible as it sounded... the best thing. Except it wouldn't have been. Boromir deserved life and the world deserved Boromir.

Maybe I was wrong though. Maybe the Lady Galadriel was wrong. Maybe Boromir didn't belong in my world any more than I belonged in his. He had started to come to life again, his old habits, old grin, old charm returning as we travelled with these Dwarves, and it was nights like tonight when he was tired that I saw what he was probably like when he WASN'T here... when he was on his own, in modern earth, lost in regret while living in a strange place.

How could I send him back to that when it made him so sad? How could I send him back when it seemed like a _punishment_ to him? I had this vivid image of Boromir in Gondor again, older, grey hair through blonde, but alive, all grin and life on a horse, back where he belonged.

"I'll let him be alone tonight." I said quietly, Balin nodding, and added silently to myself, _'Maybe I need to think about it as well.'_

A conversation nearby caught our attention. Beorn had been movign around the hall, torches going out, leaving only the fire in the hearth for our light. More wood was heaped onto it as Beorn asked Thorin, "Do you intend on going on to Mirkwood?"

"Tomorrow." Thorin responded. "Yes."

"No, not tomorrow." Gandalf interjected gently.

"We have-"

"Still some time and still the need for rest." Gandalf gave Thorin a look. "It will not be an easy path through Mirkwood and you will not want to rest on the other side, I imagine, when you are in the shadow of your own home. We have time to rest here."

"There are orcs hunting you- waiting here is acceptable." Beorn agreed quietly. He was distrustful of us, it was clear, but he seemed interested as well. "Tonight – you should all rest. Tomorrow we'll talk of your leaving this Hall."

"Not tonight?"

Beorn shook his head slowly. His head raised up, listening, and said quietly, "No, for there are things to do..."

His eyes were on the door, his attention vague, like he was listening to something none of us could hear. Then his eyes snapped down to the Dwarves. "When I leave this hall, you must all remain inside, and you must not leave the walls of the garden until I have walked back inside with the light of first dawn. Do you understand?"

"We understand." Thorin agreed. "I'll tell everyone personally."

"_Good_."

As the night went on we relaxed around the fire in the middle of the Hall with even Boromir returning to join us. Pipes came back out, smoke filling the air, sleepy relaxed voices merging stories of all kinds around the fire. Bombur was the first to pass out, others still happy to remain awake long into the evening, and I rested down onto a blanket watching the birds sleep in the rafters above.

Beorn left, just as I was close to sleep, the door closing behind us with a gentle thud. The Dwarves began to sing songs of the Mountain, of the dragon, of their homelands... the fire burnt low as they talked, the warmth lingering in the air, winds outside creaking and dancing across the Hall and making it groan and grumble around us.

I had only just fallen asleep when Gandalf's voice woke me up again, his body tall and shadowed in the dark, voice soft and yet … loud in the sense that it woke us all up.

"It is time for sleep for us but not for Beorn. Let me remind you all- do not leave the hall until he returns when the sun has risen."

"Understood." Bofur was taking off his hat, settling it beside him, and relaxing back. "We won't leave."

"Good." Gandalf fixed him with a look. He turned, sudden, and headed for the door.

"What about you?" Thorin called.

"I have things to do. I will return." Gandalf slipped out the door, leaving us alone, without even giving us so much as a hint as to what he was up to.

We stood up slowly, myself surprised as they gently nudged me up off the floor, and there at the end of the Hall- the other end- were beds prepared. Straw mattresses, sheets, pillows, sheets, it seemed quite amazing that Beorn had gone to the trouble at all. Very grateful for the makeshift bed I sunk down in one, curled up, and passed out.

I slept all night, slept well, curled up on that bed surrounded by snores, farts and grunts. So well that when I woke it was hard to believe I'd slept at all, it seemed just a few seconds between shutting my eyes and opening them again, and I had to lie there a moment or two gazing up at the early morning light to really accept that it was morning at all.

Only Bilbo continued to sleep, passed out, cuddled into his straw-stuffed pillow with his feet poking out from under the sheets. The Dwarves weren't exactly quiet... but Bilbo seemed to be too exhausted to wake up, no matter how much talking or shuffling happened around us. Most of the Dwarves sat outside or sat around the hall. Thorin was sitting talking quietly with Balin, Boromir and Gandalf, already wide awake and dressed.

Of course Thorin, restless, did not let me rest for long once we'd made eye contact. He was already awake, apparently having just washed himself outside, and gave me a rough nudge.

"Come on. Beorn has returned and it's time for us to wash. We're all bathing."

"It's horrible, I know." Bofur added, raising his eyes a moment, his own head and hair completely soaking wet still. I wasn't sure if he was joking or serious.

"Bring your dirty clothing- it can be washed and dried on the grass. The sun's warm enough." Balin called from nearby, voice soft, adding, "We'll make sure some breakfast is around."

"Okay..." I stood up and followed him outside.

I supposed I had been expecting something like behind some trees, behind a bush, maybe with a tub of water. I ended up with an entire 'pool' area cut into the side of the river, probably as much for the animals to get an easy (and safe) drink as it was for Beorn.

"Looks good." I dropped my dirty clothing down on the river bank.

"Here." Thorin thrust a sheet at me. "While everything dries- you will be safe. Boromir has them all cornered." Thorin cleared his throat, uncomfortable, adding, "You need not really worry for your virtue with us. They tease you but... but most Dwarves are not men. We do not... do not care so much for the shape of a woman, nor her … her company..."

"It's okay. I believe you." I held out my hands in an attempt to relax him. "I think someone told me once that Dwarves were married to gold, jewels and metal..." Someone being Gimli. He hadn't been the slightest bit interested in me either, thankfully, I'd had about as much sex appeal as a rock. No. Not a rock. Dwarves found those incredibly sexy. I had about sex appeal as a _tree_ to Gimli. "I feel very comfortable around all of you. Really."

"Good. The sun is warm still- you'll have dry clothes quickly."

With that he left me to bathe.

I stripped off, ignoring the stare from the barn cat as it strode past, and washed the clothing in the water. God... the _colours_ I got out of them... it was pretty shocking how gross and filthy it all had been. I ended up slapping the clothing on the river bank like I'd seen on TV. Worked really well to wring out water. The water was freezing around my ankles as I worked, totally nude, a little self-concious at first but as no one showed up to interrupt I began to relax a little. Yeah. Boromir _would_ have them cornered... sword drawn, if he needed.

Then it was my turn to be wrung out and cleaned.

Boy did it feel good.

I crawled into the water like some kind of mud-and-gross covered demented beast, sighing and groaning and sighing some more as I sunk into the water. It was _cold_ and it was good. There was a point where it didn't matter how cold water was... when it was be cold or be gross and dirty the later was clearly the choice was clear.

I groaned again, sighed, and dunked my head underwater. My instincts still expected long hair, long wet cold hair, and … as I came up gasping from the cold I found only short happy hair that took a few rubs of fingers to get it clean.

"Why do we bother?" I asked myself, leaning back to bob up and down in the river, feet brushing along the sandy bottom from time to time. "Why?"

"You talking to yourself" Bofur called.

"Shh..." Another voice hissed.

"Oh come on. I want a wash too! Race you!"

I stared, stunned, as three hairy Dwarves ran and jumped for the water. Then I burst out laughing. God. Bofur, Fili and Kili... Three sets of Dwarf sausage and meatball in a row. Hairy ones, all bushy, with just the sausage peeking out behind the forest... and it was the most absurd thing I had ever seen in my life.

"Hello!" Fili called, grinning, only slightly apologetic.

Kili agreed, "Fancy seeing you here? We were told you were swimming... upriver... a little..."

"I think she figured out what we're up to." Bofur grinned at me from over the water. "Hope you don't mind. Swimming alone is no fun. Human women really don't have a lot of hair do they? Lots of lines on stomach too...

"_Hey_!" I cut in there, shook my head, and was glad the river current gave me SOME ...shelter. But I had never felt so comfortable in all my life naked as I did right now. Skinny dipping? Sure. No problem. "No teasing me about my body. I've had a kid, you know, we get lines and stuff. Nothing's the same."

"You look like every other woman to me." Kili shrugged.

"Aye- breasts, hair, and all of that. I don't see what has Boromir so worked up." Fili was already wading out of the water to grab for clothing they'd dropped midway. "All right. Bofur, Kili, catch your clothing!"

I didn't mind at all. They weren't the slightest bit interested in me, except for open curiosity, and were already distracted with the task of washing clothing. So I floated there, amused and stunned at this turn of events, wondering how I'd describe this to Legolas when I went home.

Hell... forget Legolas... how I'd tell _Boromir_.

"Wendy, how do you get this out?" Some nasty looking stain. Goblin blood? Maybe. Kili slid across in the water as he held out one of his tunics.

"Rub it on a smooth rock..." I suggested.

"Oh, like I'm polishing it. Right!" Then he was off again, ignoring my nakedness, and crouching down in the shallow water over a rock.

Really. There were some things I didn't need to see. Kili, _naked_, crouching was one of them. I relaxed and gazed back at the sky, shaking my head, and went back to enjoying the sunshine.

Other Dwarves were heard further down the river. Ori caught Fili, Kili and Bofur and threatened to tell Boromir and Gandalf. They threatened to eat his breakfast..._and that _ must have been a serious threat because no Boromir appeared.

"Right." I said, once a scandalised Ori had vanished downstream, and slid out. "I'm cold. I'll sit in the sun."

"All right. You tell us when things get dry." Bofur called. They had no issues with the cold water. Maybe it was all the hair on their chests, arms and ...well everywhere.

I remained on the bank until my own clothes had finally dried, or at least had dried enough to be worn, and dressed behind a tree. Once I'd checked their clothes and informed htem that they were almost dry I headed back for the house.

"Was it a good wash?" Boromir asked, totally unaware of what I had seen, as he held out a bowl of food.

"It was …enlightening." I grinned and laughed, softly, shaking my head. Holy cow. That was the perfect word for the 'saw a naked dwarf' accomplishment. "Breakfast?"

"It will not last long once the Dwarves return. Eat as much as you can." Gandalf warned. "Beorn has given us food and we should be grateful and eat it."

"Better save some for Bilbo." Thorin glanced towards where the hobbit still lay fast asleep.

"That would be kind, yes." Gandalf agreed.

Dwarves returned little by little after that, lured by hungry bellies, combs out and pipes smoked once we'd consumed as much as we could manage... Beorn had set it all out earlier, apparently, and as strange as it felt I couldn't resist the urge to eat my full. It was apparently good manners here to feed a guest 'well'... where as I was so used to pretending I wasn't hungry when visiting friends. I was always the chubby one, always the one that they expected to eat more, and I wasn't used to being in an environment where it was no big deal if I DID eat extra.

Beorn wasn't around though. I'd been worried about that at first, as the Dwarves weren't quiet, but he seemed to have come and gone again. The doors remained open, the animals coming and going, and so it seemed that we had no reason to be anxious.

Thorin couldn't leave. So, soon after Bilbo had woken and eaten his 'breakfast', he found something else to do. He found my pack.

"Um, is everything okay?" I approached him quickly, when I saw the dwarf tugging my pack into the middle of the room, Boromir quick to notice as well.

"We've talked. You need to share those things." Thorin responded shortly. He nodded to Boromir.

"We talked and I explained- we cannot do that." Boromir responded, standing straighter, gazing around. "They are from a different lan-"

"We've lost everything in the Goblin Caves. You two have the remaining pack." Thorin stepped forward, reaching for the pack, and he frowned as Boromir yanked it out of his grip. "We need to all survive this trip."

"There's no weapons in there, or gold, just ..."

"Any gold on you belongs to you. We will not take that." Balin spoke up. "Nor personal items."

I exchanged a look with Boromir. How could we share the contents of the pack? It wasn't from here. Thorin had a point though. He waited for us, kneeling on the wooden floorboards and swatting away a big bee, though I suspected he might do it without permission.

Well. What could we do? I wasn't even sure how much of it had survived the fall- it had sounded at the time like something (or many things) may have broken.

"All right." I sighed as I felt my mood give in.

Thorin unlaced the pack quickly and, before I could tell him not to, turned the entire pack upside down.

Everything tumbled out.

Bits of glass, plastic and a broken torch joined other items. Thorin flinched as his finger found a shard of glass. "Broken glass?"

"Probably broke something from the fall." Balin offered. There were nods at that.

"Then there is even more reason to empty the bag. Bofur- you have a rag, get it and clean the glass up."

"Understood." Bofur retreated towards his small pile of things.

Thorin returned his attention to the actual pile, carefully shoving aside fragments of things, raising an eyebrow at what was left.

There wasn't much toilet paper left. Big shock there. I couldn't explain it before they'd tossed it to Gloin with a mutter of 'fire starter' and let it go. That stuff would be gone in a few days anyway... it would be better served for fires if we needed it.

"What is this box? Pieces of wood?" Thorin lifted the box of waterproof matches and nearly tipped them all out. Nearly. I grabbed them just in time and withdrew a match.

"Matches..." Only Bilbo seemed to recognise them. "They're matches."

"No... they're for fire starting." I responded. "You drag the red end against the rough side of the box and it sets the wood alight. They're waterproof- they'll light even when wet."

"Why bother when you have flint?" Gloin muttered. He'd snatched out the flint from my pack. "This'll make my job a little easier."

"Bilbo knows what it is. Bilbo- you carry them." Thorin tossed it to Bilbo, who handled it far more gently than Thorin had, and carefully put it into one pocket. Bofur had returned, kneeling beside the pack, carefully picking up pieces of glass and plastic from inside the hay.

Thorin withdrew fragments of plastic- more torch- and tossed them aside onto the ground. Then something else."This?"

Now he was holding up the package with the space blanket. 

"It's a blanket. It's thin but it's designed to be warm. Even in winter, in snow, this would provide protection and warmth." Boromir responded for me. He took the package and slid out a little bit. "I will not unfold it- we would never get it so small- but as you can see it is a wonder of Wendy's people..."

That got the Dwarves attention. They all crowded around the blanket, touching it, fingering the shiny silver stuff, jaws opening.

"It looks useless..."

"But it's warm! My fingers are already warm!"

"It looks like metal... but there is no metal that does this..."

"Explain it. What does this packaging say?" Gloin thrust the packaging out at me as he slid the blanket out.

I rose up to take the package as the dwarves passed around the folded blanket and stroking it. You'd think they'd been suddenly treated to a Christmas. Seriously. "Space blanket. Bulk pack of four emergency blankets. Reflects ninty percent of body heat, windproof and waterproof, two ply durability-"

It was kind of amusing. As I started to speak, the Dwarves had turned to me, and there was a kind of awed expression in their face at every single word I read out.

"-that basically means that it's a little thicker than the others." Probably. Two ply toilet paper was horrible … but these weren't toilet paper.

"But what's it made of? What _is_ this metal?"

The quick answer was that I didn't know. I hadn't thought about it. Space blankets were... they were just space blankets, those odd crinkly things that we packed when we went camping, and rarely ever used. The last time we'd gone camping it had been at a caravan park- I'd wanted Cele to have a Christmas at the beach- and he'd somehow become a magnet for other kids from the other tents and caravans. They'd ended up taking all of our space blankets and using them as cloaks as they ran around the tents pretending to be warriors and aliens. Or something.

I turned the box over. "Let's see... um. Plastic-"

"-A material only found in Wendy's land-" Boromir added quickly.

Not exactly. Pretty sure anyone could make it … but I didn't correct him. I just continued on, "- and made from mylar."

"Mylar? Never heard of it." Dwalin grunted.

"It is a new kind of metal..." Bofur breathed out. He'd frozen in his torch cleanup to touch it as well. "Feel it. It's beautiful..."

"It is!"

"Let me have a touch..." Dori pushed forward to grasp the compact silver set of blankets.

I'd never seen the Dwarves like this. They almost seemed … for lack of a better description... suddenly 'high' and childlike with the discovery. The metal drew them in, fingers sliding in and out as they caressed the material under the plastic, bending and flexing the blankets over and over... like they couldn't really believe what they were seeing.

"There's four. Let's unfold one..."

"You'd never get it as small as it is..." Boromir warned.

They ignored Boromir. Within seconds one was unfolded, held out, admired, and more or less kidnapped into a far corner by the majority of the Dwarves.

Thorin looked as if he was half tempted to go join them. He sighed, as if it was TOUGH not being able to go admire this 'new metal', and focused back on the pile of pack contents.

The others returned quickly when the multitool was discovered. _That_ ended up with Bifur, once they'd discovered what it was, which had started another round of Dwarves crowding in trying to touch, play and discover... only for Thorin to give them that _look_. The compass... same reaction. I was sure I'd never see any of these things again.

It was kind of funny in a sense- earlier when we'd been skinny dipping there had been no reaction by my naked body. Now, however, they were completely and utterly smitten by each and every gadget my pack produced.

I almost laughed when they discovered the headlight in its protective bag and switched it on by accident.

"It lights!" Balin exclaimed.

"But there is no flame..." Bofur touched it, tentative, adding, "And no heat!"

"Let me see that..." Nori shuffled forward, hands out, trying to grab it. "It's perfect! It's so lightweight!"

"Imagine mining with this. Or crafting..." Ori breathed out as he touched it. "Or drawing. I could draw in the dark!"

Thorin grabbed it, frustrated, probably regretting that he'd started the 'let's share Wendy's pack' game at all. He trust it at me and I quickly switched it back off. "The pack and healing kit will remain with Wendy, as will the light, for such a direct light will give her a better view of any wounds..."

He had a point. I hadn't even thought of using the headlight like that. I carefully wrapped it back up in the bag it came with.

Rope went one direction. The mirror wasn't broken. Thorin was quick go give it to Kili, which amused Boromir, Fili quick to join him as they gazed down into the mirror together. Maybe mirrors weren't common- they seemed equally as awestruck by that as they had been by the multitool.

"What are these?"

Thorin held up the radios.

"Communication..." Boromir answered before I could speak up. He was enjoying himself so much, I could see, and as he tossed one of the radios to me, he jogged away outside suddenly.

"Where's he going?"

"To be a show off." I responded.

About a minute later, just as the Dwarves were loosing interest in whatever it was Boromir was up to and returning their attention back to the multitool and the space blanket, Boromir returned. He seemed disappointed that there wasn't a group of awed Dwarves... they had no idea why he'd put distance between us.

"You keep those things then." Thorin decided. He turned his back to us as he continued his tas

"I hoped I could scare them." He admitted quietly to me as he knelt beside me. "Did you not hear my voice?"

"They must be broken as well..." I answered softly. Quick investigation did find that the radio had been dented in several places, scraped a bit, maybe against the torch or against something else. I shook the radio in my hand and listened to a rattle inside. I pressed the button, testing it, adding, "Guess it wasn't just the torch."

My voice came out Boromir's radio, faint but there, so soft and quiet that no one but us seemed to hear it. Boromir blinked and took both radios, fiddling, staring down at them.

"Maybe it can only send now." He said quietly. "This one to this one."

"I guess so..."

"Then we can at least make sure we can connect to one another in some way." Boromir quickly switched both off and slid them back in their pouches. "I will keep them for now."

"Ok, fair enough." I agreed quietly.

Once Thorin was done, we got the pack back, the insides almost completely empty now. Rope and other things, other things that excited them far less, vanished into other hands. That was fine by me. It would be less to carry.

It was just at this thought, the idea of carrying things and starting the journey again, that I honestly considered going to have a quick nap. Or a long one. We wouldn't get them again for a long time and I still had aching muscles that needed calming. I wandered towards the bed area alone as Bilbo approached me.

"Wendy..." Bilbo called gently. "Sorry... were you going to sleep? Was thinking of it myself, actually..."

"It's fine. What's on your mind?"

I sunk down onto my bed with a soft groan, scratchy hay more noticeable now I wasn't so tired, now eye-to-eye with Bilbo.

"I'm sorry to bother you. It's just- you're familiar with Elves and Oliphants … so perhaps you're familiar with... you know, other things."

"Other things?"

"Other things … wonderful. Different." Bilbo cleared his throat, voice lowering, and leaned forward. "Gandalf talked of seeing a meeting of bears. Have you heard of other skinchangers besides Beorn?"

"He did? When?" I blinked. No, I hadn't, but Bilbo had my curiosity raised now.

He glanced behind me to where Gandalf was sitting and answered softly, "Before, while I ate breakfast, he said that he followed Beorn to a meeting and saw all kinds of bears there. Big and little and..."

"So there's others?" I wondered. I hadn't remembered hearing about that. It probably made sense... but it was interesting. "Maybe he's telling them to not eat us." Or, maybe, if they were enemies with the Orcs maybe he was warning them. That was another thing I considered as I reached down to slowly unlace and pull off one boot at a time.

"Do you think... do you think he's … fattening us up?" Bilbo's voice hushed right down now into a whisper.

What! I blinked at the silly question, though Bilbo was apparently one hundred percent serious, as he glanced past me to the table. "He's feeding us a lot of cream and honey. I've heard tales of ...this. From some less than respectable members of my family, you see... And if there were other bears out there..."

"He's feeding us a lot of cream because that's probably all he eats." I responded and tried to not laugh. "If he doesn't eat meat he's got to eat something. Honey, cream, milk, his garden, it's what anyone would eat if they couldn't eat their friends. Besides," I reasoned, ", why would he eat us if he doesn't even eat his friends here? The animals are safe enough."

"I suppose he does." Bilbo sat down on the bed beside mine with a soft sigh. "I did not think so but I thought I'd ask. You would understand why I'm concerned, I think, but if I were to ask Gandalf or the Dwarves..."

They'd either start to doubt him again or they'd tease him. Or agree with him and attack Beorn. All those possibilities weren't worth risking.

"I really don't think we're in any danger." I finally managed to swallow down the smile and shook my head. "Maybe if we harmed his animal buddies we might have to deal with a little more anger."

"Gandalf won't allow that." Bilbo nodded, a little color returning to his face, and he sighed. "Thank you. I thought we may be safe but I needed to hear someone else say it."

"It's all a lot to take in." I agreed. Giant men. Giant goblin caves. Giant bears. Orc packs. I'd seen stuff and I was overwhelmed... and for Bilbo he'd had even more to deal with. Like Gollum. Gollum would have _gladly_ eaten him fat or no fat given half a chance. "No. I think we're okay. Gandalf knows what he's doing."

"I'm starting to think he does too."

Bilbo slid his body around and lay back, arms under his head, his belly a little bloated from all the food he must have eaten. Even with his worry... clearly had not stopped him from consuming as much as he could. "I feel as if I'm doing something wrong to be able to lie around."

I lay down as well, relaxing, and shut my eyes. "Better get used to it. We'll be off again before we know it."

That night Beorn finally returned. This time he came with trust, if only a _little_, and acceptance of our story. As he fed us once again, fed us with as much food as the night before, he informed us that he had confirmed our story about the Goblins, the Goblin King, and the Eagles by going there himself.

"-It was a good story, indeed, but I like it all the more now knowing that it is indeed true!" Beorn rumbled as he shook his head, sliding mugs of ale around again, clearly glad to share such large amounts of food. "You must forgive me for not believing you before I had myself seen the Goblins' fury at the demise of their King. I have seen too much and trust little from others. But now- eat, drink, for the death of the Goblin King is worth celebrating some, and let us talk more on your journey! Killed the Great Goblin!" That made Beorn chuckle, the table trembling as he thumped a fist down, in a very good mood compared to the night before. "I have warned the goblins not to approach- their own kin and wargs are now nailed to the outside of my walls and on trees around the land. They will not come close tonight."

There was laughter, toasting to that death and the Goblin fury around the hills, jugs passed around. For a moment I was anxious for Boromir … because once again his nose was being rubbed in it and he could barely look up without his eyes finding one of those jugs... but surprisingly none of the ale reached Boromir. The Dwarves seemed to have caught on, though I didn't know how, and our end of the table only received the jugs of creamy milk.

"You will need to leave at sunrise tomorrow, for you will need all the sunlight you can get, but even then the Orc will outrun you."

"We will have to run." Thorin responded. "We can manage."

"It will not be nearly fast enough, Thorin Oakenshield, not nearly fast enough. No." Beorn shook his head as his smile faded. "I do not like Dwarves, for you are greedy and unseeing of lives you consider meaningless, but goblins and orcs I dislike more. And for the service, of killing the Goblin King, I may for this time consider you a friend. The herd outside will gladly bear you to the edge of Mirkwood and I will give you all packs, with food and supplies, so that you can continue onwards. My friends are already gathering what you need as we feast."

He nodded past us. When I turned to look I saw animals wandering up and down, dragging things about, small sacks, packs, rope, clothing, all kinds of useful things. Incredible. I knew that these animals were somehow 'more intelligent' but … it was still a strange sight to see.

"That's very generous!" Gandalf smiled, shaking his head, glad. "Thank you."

"You will need all the help you can get in Mirkwood." Beorn warned us all. "The woods are dark,dangerous, and you will not find water or food. Do not hunt, not even the healthiest of animals, and do not leave the path. Once you have lost the path you will not find it again. There is one river in the middle which you will come across- Do not drink from it, do not touch it, do not place even a foot in it!"

"Why not?"

"It will cast you into a sleep and will drown you. Should you wake from that sleep, it is said it also creates forgetfulness in any unwise enough to touch it." Beorn warned. "You will have to carry all the water in with you- I have skins for you all- and wait till you have left Mirkwood to refill them."

God. What the hell kind of place did Legolas live in? I felt kind of cold up and down the spine at Beorn's warnings.

"Bows and arrows you will all get- but do not use them inside. They will be to defend your lives, not to hunt for your food." Beorn added.

"I think we understand." Thorin muttered. "We have no intention on staying there."

"Good. Lastly- the Elves."

Boromir and I both looked up at that, missed by everyone but Gandalf, as all pairs of eyes went to Beorn.

"They are _wild_ and strange- not the ones you may be used to from Rivendel or other such places." Beorn warned each of us, eyes going to each of us in turn again, all trace of celebration gone. "They are not bad-" There was a snort from Thorin at that and Beorn fixed him with a look, "Thorin Oakenshield, I mean every word, and do not care for any quarrel you have had with them. They are not bad in spirit, but they do not care for anything outside their own home, untrusting of all but their the needs of their own, and will not help you in any way."

"We have no intention of asking Elves for help." Dwalin muttered.

"Aye, we gladly will pass by them." Thorin agreed.

Beorn nodded slowly. He rose at that, surprising us, and slowly stretched. "Then I will be off into the night. I will not be here in the morning to farewell you- but you may safely leave all the doors open when you leave. When you reach the forest I ask that you let my ponies run home again."

"We will." Gandalf agreed, before any others could protest, and even I felt a bit anxious about that. Something more comforting about riding as fast as we could through Mirkwood... particularly with all those grim warnings. Gandalf added, "They will be turned loose."

Beorn nodded slow. "You are all welcome, should you come this way again, to rest at my house if you need to."

He turned, leaving us to our feast, some of the celebration gone with his words.


	15. Ride to Mirkwood

The entire group was refreshed and restless to leave by sunrise, already awake, Ponies waiting outside to be saddled. We ate the remains of the feast from the night before, filled every water skin till it was bursting, drank as much water as we dared, and with the ponies saddled and the packs on our backs we started away from the house, dogs, goats, bees and still free horses prancing along beside us till we reached the edge of the field.

It felt good to be riding along, really good, pack heavy on my back, the muscles flexing underneath me, smell of horse musk and sweat in my nostrils as we rode on through the morning and into the afternoon.

Although we were concerned about an orc pack, we saw nothing, and the world seemed to be completely safe. Wildlife... or were they more of Beorn's friends?... grazed or watched us with no real fear, birds flew and sang, the sun warm but the wind cold. The horses galloped when the grass was smooth and rock free, which was more often than not even with the Mountains still around us, and by the time we'd paused for a quick lunch and started again that afternoon everyone had relaxed so much that there was laughter and singing.

That all quietened down by that night, when the Mountains started to go red from the sunset, as we settled down in a sheltered area against some trees and huddled around a very small fire. I couldn't say I slept all that well... all I dreamed about were the orc packs hunting us. That night we were all restless though, and when it came my turn to keep watch, I was already awake from Bombur's restless sleep resulting in a foot in my face.

Nothing. Although my dreams were horrible ones about the orc pack that was coming to get us, the night itself was quiet, peaceful, and the only thing I saw in the end was a bunny and an owl. The sky was mostly clear, the moon large and beautiful, stars glittering above in their unfamiliar patterns.

With the snuffling and shuffling of horses, snoring of Dwarves, Bilbo's occasional foot-twitch, and Boromir's full back stretching over the hard ground, it was a very peaceful and calm night. I felt my own body start to relax as I fought against the urge to sleep again.

Then I caught sight of a big dark shape shuffling in the distance through forest. Bear? Holy crap. I didn't know why I went for Gandalf. I shuffled over, shaking him gently, and he was quick to sit up.

"I saw..." I glanced in the direction it had been. Huh. Had I been dreaming it?

"What?"

"I thought it was a … a bear... but maybe it wasn't."

"Beorn will not leave the side of his children." Gandalf responded gently. "But do not speak of it to others."

The side of his children? The ponies?

I breathed out and relaxed. Oh. Okay. As bizarre as it sounded... I felt suddenly pretty okay with a bear nearby. Admittedly... no experience with the things. Australia didn't have bears. If I had grown up in America or some place that had bears in their backyards, or camping while trying to not attract bears, I might have been taught from a kid to be a little more wary.

"Sorry to wake you." I stood up slowly and went back to sit down.

"Wendy-" Gandalf stood up slowly, following me to where I had been keeping watch a little distance away, and he sat down beside me. Out came a pipe. "We will both keep watch."

Because of the bear? I wasn't sure. He was relaxed, his face in a gentle smile, all the harshness of the first meeting long gone.

"Okay."

For a long time we didn't talk, just watched the now still world around us, the fire died down and the pipe the only warm glow in the area. The smell of the weed in his pipe was earthy, musky, and almost sweet... it was a very relaxing smell. Gandalf entertained himself with all kinds of shapes in the smoke. They lingered for quite a while, illuminated by the nearly-full moon when it would come out from behind the clouds, the white light making them incredibly beautiful in a way.

"The Lady Galadriel-" He started, softly, after some time, "-was the one who spoke of you both."

"She did? What … what did she say?"

"That you are Wenduin, found in the river outside Rivendel, and Boromir is the son of . Captain of Gondor. Or will be in decades to come. Strange things are happening in this world." He exhaled slowly, considering his words, as a large blue smoke ring rose up into the sky to join several others still lingering around. "Dark things."

"I can't tell you about those..."

"No." Gandalf agreed, some strength to his voice as he answered, but he turned to look at me. "This I know. You may try, if you like, but there are things in place now that would not even allow you to speak..."

"What do you mean? I could just … say it..." Couldn't I?

I went quiet, a little confused, and stared forward. The moment I considered telling Gandalf... my brain went a bit odd. This hadn't happened before. But then, I realised, I hadn't considered telling him before.

"Then try."

What could I say? Maybe... maybe about … the council of Elrond? Without telling him why they met? Big meeting of Dwarves, Elves, Hobbits and humans from all the Kingdoms to talk about something. Big 'spoiler' but not... not revealing. So I tried, "The cou-"

It didn't work.

As soon as I tried, as soon as my voice started, my entire body went strangely numb, tongue twisting, brain loosing its place. It was weird, it made no sense, because it was all still in my head. I just couldn't get it to come out of my mouth. What I did get out was, "I don't understand."

"There are some things that _should not be said_." Gandalf breathed in and exhaled another smoke ring. "We are not left to our own devices- there are guides, watchers, protectors around, above and below, and some are good. Some are not so good. Some are quite evil, indeed, and those are the ones that worry me. Are you unable to tell me of the events to come because of them, or because of the good protectors of the world?"

"Good." I responded, automatically, and hoped I was right. It was my knee-jerk reaction and the moment I'd had it I doubted it. Wondered. What if it was the ring? Trying to stay hidden? I couldn't even bring myself to look at Bilbo right now, almost repelled by body in some strange way, and … and I realised that perhaps … perhaps that was it.

It wasn't ready. It was still weak. I thought about it, touching it, holding it, the beautiful ring of gold...

I could take it. I could make it ready. I could change it all. I knew the future and I could use the power of that ring to prevent it all.

That thought, that horrible thought that I'd had during the War of the Ring, came back. And yet... it was _weak_. Nothing like it had used to be. It was just a whisper, so quiet, so _gentle_ that it could be easily ignored. During the War of the Ring those thoughts had been a scream, sometimes such an all consuming scream that I felt deafened to all other thoughts and needs, till I was almost convinced it was the right thing.

And Boromir...

The poor man had suffered from it worst. Maybe that was what drowned the ring out so much for me right now, because as I looked at his sleeping body, I remembered that moment we'd both suffered when he'd lost his mind with me. When he'd tried to hurt me. That had was a moment I knew he would rather fall on his own sword than do again.

"Is it good?"

I didn't answer. Gandalf reached out to grasp my hand, surprising me as he touched it a moment, an affectionate gesture that I wasn't used to from the wizard.

"You do not need to tell me any of it. I will discover it." He reassured me gently. "Lady Galadriel speaks highly of you, for what reasons she does not share with me, and perhaps she herself does not understand them yet. You have the friendship and trust of an Elf few have. That is enough for me."

"I don't know why either." I admitted, smiled weakly, and shook my head. I sighed and tried to relax. "So... it's okay that I can't talk about it."

"Do what you must to aid Thorin Oakenshield. That is all I expect of you and it is a great deal for you to do." Gandalf stood up slowly. "Other things may not be your burden. It has past. Tell no one of the bear. It will not bother us."

It has past.

The words lifted a hell of a lot of weight off me. I watched him return to where he had been sleeping, settling down again, considering those words.

It has _past_.

Maybe he was right. Maybe … all of that, the War of the Ring, it was done for me. Even if it was in their future... it wasn't in mine. It was done and I couldn't keep trying to be responsible for it. I just had to do what I had to for this moment, these people, and for Boromir.

Once I was done I woke Boromir, who seemed to be half awake as well, and with the look of a tired man who was struggling to stand, he rose and stretched slowly. We swapped and I went back to uneasy dreams about orcs that resembled zombies.

Morning came with a fog, made golden by the rising sun, and we were off after a quick breakfast again.

That was a horrible thought for the next day of riding- picturing what would happen to Middle Earth if the orcs and goblins became zombies. Not fun. It was distracting though, and although I was expecting it, we passed through the second day of riding without so much as a bunny.

No Orcs. No dangerous Mirkwood ahead. The most exciting thing I saw on the second day was the occasional sighting of herds of wild deer, something else I hadn't seen before in my life, and I had to admit I wished I had a camera. Felt a little like a tourist all of a sudden. Deer! We stopped, we slept, still expecting the orc pack to chase us and...

Nothing.

Third day was the same routine with only one slight variation- we rode into the night for some time before we stopped to camp. It was only now that I found out we'd be at Mirkwood by tomorrow- and that was partly because by the time we had stopped I could see it.

It wasn't special, nor was it forbidding from this distance, but there was something strange about the land around Mirkwood. I couldn't explain it. The lack of owls, birds or wildlife today... or was it the eerie silence?

"That's it, huh." I commented to Bofur. Voice was barely more than a whisper, not out of choice but out of the atmosphere that forest across the land gave off, and it gave me the 'campfire creeps' pretty bad.

Only it was right there. Real.

"That's it!" Bofur agreed, pausing mid-step with an armful of twigs, and shook his head. "I don't like it."

"Don't have to like it, just have to get through it. Quickly. Pass that wood." Gloin called. "Bit of sleep and food won't hurt tonight."

"Don't expect much." Thorin warned us all. "We're up before dawn. Wendy can have first watch tonight."

"Got it." I agreed. I didn't mind much, I wanted to pace up and down a little after riding for hours, my butt was aching again... walking and sitting still both were wonderful ideas as far as I was concerned. "So it's not far?"

"Two hours ride."

Two hours? It looked like it was fifteen minutes away. With a slight shudder I turned my back o that place, turned towards the newly sparked fire, and tried to keep both it and the orc out of my mind.

If the last three nights had been nightmarish... the fourth was the worst. The expectation of attack was horrible, sinking like a heavy weight into my gut and making me both sick and heavy feeling, and that night when I kept watch I didn't just walk. I really tried to keep watch. I didn't remember the Orc Pack catching up to Thorin and company in the movie... but then again, there'd already been a few other differences as well. Quite a few.

It seemed almost … almost too good to be true... when we woke the next morning just as the night sky began to lighten in the east and packed ponies. Living, healthy, breathing ponies, their breath creating little clouds in the heavy mist.

It was not making anyone happy early that morning, the heavy fog that once again concealed Mirkwood, but ever since I'd caught sight of Mirkwood the sense of foreboding and expectation had started to build up inside me. It made me feel a little nauseated.

Still no wildlife as we mounted the ponies and started after Gandalf, and the ponies this time were restless and clearly as uneasy as the rest of us, but even still moods couldn't be drowned. Just as the sun was starting to rise high in the air and clear the mist, we reached Mirkwood, and the fear of orc-pack lessened slightly.

"Let the horses go." Gandalf instructed.

"But-"

"You think Beorn will let you take them? He is not an enemy you want to make, Dwalin, and he considers them as good as his children. You should be grateful that he would allow you to ride them so hard at all!" Gandalf shook his head. "Release them."

He strode off into the forest ahead of us several metres.

"You heard him." Thorin muttered. "We did agree."

There was only a little grumbling about this, no one really wanted to really make the big skinchanger mad, but the packs did remind us of just how good a job the ponies had done.

Even after four days of riding and eating they were quite heavy, packed to the brim with all kinds of food products that would last, and even the Dwarves seemed to feel it as they lifted them down. Still, with four days worth of food for all those Dwarves, a hobbit stomach, plus myself Gandalf and Boromir, they weren't nearly as heavy as they had been when we'd set out. Hard to tell though.

"It's heavy." Bilbo staggered a little as he hoisted his onto his back.

"We'll be glad for the food soon." Thorin responded.

"Should we rest a moment?" Balin asked after he'd hoisted a pack off with a soft grunt.

"No." Thorin shook his head. "It is a long journey and one I would sooner get done with as soon as we can manage it."

"Understood." Balin nodded.

I ended up with my old pack, loaded with all kinds of things, Boromir's pack in a similar state to mine. Gandalf had remained inside Mirkwood as we'd unloaded and started to take off bridles and saddles.

Now he rushed out, calling, "Leave that one!"

"We said we'd turn them loose and send them back..." Ori hesitated.

"And so we shall- only I will ride it back, not send it back!" Gandalf responded.

"You're leaving us?"

"Why?"

Voices rose in protest of that, Gandalf's voice cutting over the lot of them, a firmness as he insisted, "This is where I must leave you. There are other things I must do, pressing business to the South, and it cannot wait a moment longer."

"Fine." Thorin agreed, turning his back, his face darkening.

"I will return as I can. Bilbo?"

Bilbo had approached Gandalf.

I didn't watch them, the others already starting towards the edge of Mirkwood, Gandalf and Bilbo too quiet for me to overhear. Boromir paid more attention than I had.

It gave me a moment though to act on a thought I'd had more and more as we'd approached Mirkwood. I knelt down and shuffled around carefully through the pack for something. With the anxiety about what was to come and what was chasing us I'd thought more and more about my first aid pack's contents.

Boromir had flirted with death far too much.

I wasn't keen on him doing it anymore and I had an idea.

The kit was tugged out part way, it took up a lot of space and made some things vanish into a gap it created, and I shuffled through the contents to find two bottles of something. Spray. Insect repellent and insect killing spray. They weren't big, I almost hoped for giant bottles like I kept hidden at home for 'emergencies', but they were better than nothing. More than better. Amazing!

"Leggy, I'm going to reward you so hard..." I muttered, grinning, a pang of love and heartache rising up as I fingered the bottles. He'd touched them. Touched these bottles. His lovely long fingers. Oh yes, when I got home, I'd thank him in _all kinds of ways_.

God. I was pathetic. Even now it didn't take much to feel that pull towards him. Here I was trying to figure out how to protect my friends from spiders... but that was just how it was with us.

"Focus, woman." I muttered, gazing up as the Dwarves started towards the forest, and shook my head. Right. Yeah. Mirkwood. Shoved the first aid kit down once it had been zipped up, the cans on the top of my pack with easy reach, and I stood up. Almost.

Bormoir grabbed me as I almost tipped over.

"You should stand then pick it up- not try and do both." He informed me. "Did you not hear Gandalf's warning?"

"No?"

Oh,woops. Gandalf was already riding away. I smiled weakly as I guessed "Stay on the path, don't let the forest trick you, and don't trust the Elves?"

"More or less. Yes." Boromir ruffled my hair affectionately and shoved me forward. "Now, come, we're leaving!"

"Okay, okay."

Mirkwood.

Finally here.

I had never been any place like it before. Never. I'd seen Fangorn forest and that suddenly seemed tame.

I had to pause ten minutes in, grasping onto my pack straps, and breathe a moment with a whoosh of air that was accompanied by an attempt to mentally will myself on. I wasn't the only one either- even Thorin hesitated, just ten metres in, muttering something about 'checking water supplies'.

I wasn't sure what it was, whether it was the dank stale air that smelt like something was … not rotting but something close to... or it was the darkness. It was so _dark_, and yet when I turned around, I could still see the bright early morning light outside. The trees were only grey or black, with the faintest trace of what may have been brown or green once, and that made the silvery Elvish statues- hidden under creeping vines- look a little frightening. They almost looked like old white _bones_. That was not helped by the presence of crawling ivy- strangling and cutting into dead and alive trees.

A quick glance upwards confirmed that there was indeed sunlight over us too, high above were the hints of dark green leaves illuminated by the sunlight but somehow that sun couldn't reach the road.

"Come on." Balin patted my arm. "We'll soon enough be past this."

"Sooner the better." Dwalin grumbled softly.

So in we went, the last traces of the meadows and fields lost behind us, the trees growing high and the sunlight finally vanishing from view.

There was a point where I found myself pulling on my necklace again, hood over my head, the hood giving a sense of protection and the necklace giving a sense of comfort. The leaf was the first thing I'd gotten from Legolas, a simple green stone carved into the shape of a leaf and wrapped in silver, not particularly detailed... but beautiful. Now that I was trekking into his territory I was starting to feel a strange kind of tense anxiety that, although logically it should have been, wasn't connected to Mirkwood at all.

Or to the spiders. Or to that ring Bilbo gave me.

No. It was something else.

"Come on!" Thorin called, and I hurried my steps, focusing on Gloin's back.

I tightened my grip on my pack and hurried after the others into the dark depths of Mirkwood.

* * *

A/N Sorry for delay, everyone, we've been in a major heatwave so the chapter is quite short this time! :) The heatwave is breaking right now... sohopefully will get more done when everything cools down.


	16. Mirkwood

The leaves were thick, ankle deep sometimes, and from the looks of it they could have been far deeper still off the path. Thorin led us, or Dwalin, both of them with their axes out, thunking them down onto the ground to find the stone path. It grew darker by the minute, sunlight vanishing more and more, and my eyes had to keep adjusting.

Boromir and I remained close to one another towards the back, almost instinctively, and from time to time we would exchange a wordless glance that spoke more than any words. If I was reading him correctly it was '___we__'____re__ not in ____Kansas__ anymore_' or... _something_ along those lines. He was tense, his body betraying the tense state of awareness I'd seen Boromir have in battle before, clearly expecting something dire and sinister to go with the visually sinister nature of Mirkwood.

Of course we both knew about the spiders and from time to time, even in the first hour of walking along the path behind Thorin's guidance, there were signs of spider webs from time to time. It was hard to tell if they were from 'normal' sized spiders or massive ones... but they were off the path, few and far between, so I didn't want to go find out.

By lunch- at least I _assumed_ it was around then- the sunlight could no longer be seen through the forest canopy. What I did see if I looked up were small furry black creatures.

"What are they?" I whispered to Boromir, who glanced up, his brow creasing as he considered the creatures.

"Not a threat. I assume. Squirrels."

Squirrels. Hadn't seen those before. Were they normally jet black? I shuffled forward, not wanting to loose the Dwarves just to stare at Squirrels, but it was hard to ignore the little black buggers when they seemed to follow us.

I wasn't sure what I had been expecting. Spider attack straight away. Getting lost straight away. Nothing particularly 'bad' took place on the first day, although the sense of unease didn't leave me, and we were constantly surrounded by strange noises that sounded like … pigs crossed with _horses_ shuffling around, only _larger_, grunts, squeaks, snorts and crackling of leaves all over the place.

When night came things grew a little worse for all of us.

It wasn't obvious at first that night was falling- it was always dark in Mirkwood- and by the time we'd started to realise that it was actually night it had started to become so dark that I could barely see anything clearly if it was further than a few metres away.

We all crowded together as a whispered discussion... whispering was loudest sound anyone dared make in this place... took place about how much longer to walk.

"We need to stop." Balin insisted. "We will loose the path if it gets any darker... and it just might, Thorin."

"What's that!" Ori exclaimed, startled.

We all turned to see something in the dark forest. Big eyes. They sat twenty or so metres off the path in a near black shadow under … what I assumed was the shape of a tree in the darkness... but they caught the light in such a way that they were like mirrors. Boromir took a step towards it, only for Dwalin to grab his arm.

"Ignore it. Been following us for a few hours. There's a few of them." He muttered. "Don't seem to approach the path."

Boromir nodded.

The eyes didn't move. They just hung there. Stared. Didn't even blink.

I shuddered and forced myself to look away.

"Yes, fine." Thorin sighed, defeat showing as he nodded, and he muttered, "Everyone get a little bit of wood. We'll make a small fire... but don't walk far off."

There was mumbled agreement as we all parted for a moment. No one was willing to go more than a few steps in either direction but with the sheer volume of dead leaves and twig material scattered around, sometimes with dead branches over the overgrown path, no one really needed to go far.

I gathered handfuls of twigs as Dwalin and Gloin dragged a large thick branch over, both of them splintering it with their axe, the resulting crack echoing and sounding shocking and frightening. Stupid, really, as it was a familiar sound... but the forest had become so quiet.

More eyes had gathered around us.

I exhaled slowly, tense from head to toe, and turned to hurry back to the small pile. Dropped sticks where others had, lowered my pack, and tried to incorporate 'relaxation' methods that didn't mean _squat_ with several dozen strange eyeballs glowing in the dark around us. It had grown even darker since we'd started.

How much worse could it get?

Fifteen minutes later I knew. The night must have fallen completely (or at least it couldn't 'fall' any more) because I honestly could not see much beyond the circle of light the fire created. I was close to Boromir's side, not even bothering to hide that I kind of needed the big oaf to be close by, with everyone else pretty much doing the same thing- sitting as close to one another as they could.

Gloin remained in the middle, trying to coax the fire brighter and hotter, but it was weak and sad for some reason. Could have been all the giant hand sized grey-and-black moths that kept fluttering right into it.

And … around us, reflected in the light, were hundreds of eyes. Sickly yellow ones, that protruded from whatever kinds of heads they existed in, shiny like mirrors and large.

Not just a few dozen. Hundreds. More coming. They kept appearing.

"We need to put it out..." Thorin decided, eventually, whispering, "The light is attracting them..."

"Without it we will have no light or way of seeing..." Gloin glanced around. "Whatever it is."

"Do it. Everyone- keep your weapons close."

I hated that decision. Loathed it. Still, Gloin did what he was told, and within seconds the unhappy fire had been put out.

Now, as the light faded, the ability to see was lost. I shuddered, felt a hand slide into mine from the direction Boromir was in, but when I looked down I couldn't even see my _own body_ led alone the hand holding mine. I could hear things still, the heavy breathing of the Dwarves and Hobbit, Boromir's shuffling as his body turned towards a different direction, and worse yet... the sounds of whatever creatures were out there.

They still remained. All those eyes. Hundreds of eyes sitting in the dark, staring at us, points of light that gave no comfort whatsoever. They started to vanish as the light faded. I just didn't know if they were leaving... or if the lack of light was hiding most of them.

"Food." Thorin's voice spoke up, Boromir's hand flinching at the sudden sound, and soon food was being passed around from fumbling hand to fumbling hand in the dark, the packs rummaged around in.

"Can't tell what I'm opening..." Dori muttered. "Tastes fine."

Neither could I. I ended up with a little jar of jam and flat bread, fingers used to spread the jam, and sat there literally forcing my body to swallow the sticky sweet lumps of bread. I was so tense that my throat just wanted to reject all food.

"Didn't want to ask but... have I gone blind?" Someone's whispered voice came from nearby. Kili's voice.

"If you have, so have I." Fili responded. Or was that Fili who had spoken first and Kili who had answered?

"Phew." Fili or Kili breathed out. Or both.

"It's dark." Bilbo's voice joined in. His voice was a little unsteady. "What are those eyes?"

"It's not dark. It's _black_."

"Quiet." Thorin's voice cut in. "Rest as much as you can. We'll move as soon as it lightens."

Silence fell amongst the group again. This did not help the situation. With those eyes, around fifty or so now, and the sound of squeaking and flapping joined the rest of the sounds. The eyes did not move- so the sounds didn't come from them- but the strange 'squeak' kept being heard as something flew across our heads time and time again.

"Bats." Boromir muttered quietly.

"Oh."

I shut my eyes, which made no difference as I couldn't see anyway, and leaned against his shoulder. There was a sudden shuffling as I felt an arm grasp me and hoist me into a side, tight around my shoulders, head now against his side. It felt a fraction bit safer... but only a tiny bit. I slid my arm around his waist and squeezed. Yep. There. Now I was protecting him too.

I felt his body shake as he laughed, though it was nearly silent, and we sat there side by side.

The silence held for a few more minutes.

"We'll take turns taking watch." Thorin said softly. "I'll start. Go around the circle. Everyone else rest."

The idea of 'rest' was stupid. Really stupid. Somehow it happened. I dreamed, aware that it was all dreams, dreaming of Legolas once again. From time to time it was almost as if he could see me as well... but mostly I seemed to be a silent observer, like one of the many eyes that observed us right now, seeing fragments of a life he might have had here.

Hunting in Mirkwood, kneeling with a bow readied, his entire physical presence blending into the ancient gnarled tree that he crouched on with the statue-like attentiveness of an owl.

Other dreams too, of standing on the very canopy of the forest under the trees, the wind catching his hair in strong moonlight, gazing upwards with other Elves who seemed to be doing the same. Or of them eating, feasting, enjoying life, as if they were oblivious to Mirkwood's unhealthy state.

There he was in a different place, the most vivid dream of all those dreams, relaxing in a fabric-covered chair under the stars in a clearing as Elves sang, laughed and danced in an open field strewn with lanterns and cushions on grass.

Singing, laughing, sitting in a greener area of trees where many Elves feasted and danced and sung, almost as if they were in a bubble of healthy forest within the darker sicker Mirkwood. With friends and sitting beside his father. In that dream I was noticed not by Legolas but by his father himself. The ancient elf turned slowly, as I stood off to one side behind their chairs, gazing in my direction as if he was aware I was there and could see me. I didn't feel welcome at all in that dream and was relieved when it was over.

The last dream, just before I was woken, was of my Legolas. Old Legolas, with his silver-blonde hair mixed with the occasional streak of silver, his dark eyebrows lined with silver hairs, shallow lines of 'aging' denting his eyes, forehead and mouth... which for a human may have suggested mid forties, perhaps, but for an Elf it signified many more years.

He was waiting at home for me, sitting in the vegetable garden we both tended lovingly together, a small feast of food and wine set out under the stars on a table we'd both made from a tree that had fallen during a summer storm.

"A'maelamin. We're waiting for you." He turned to face me, holding out his hand, and when I took it I could feel it as if it was really there.

He didn't speak as he rose to his feet and came to me, smile creasing his face and eyes, reaching out for me. The other grasped for the necklace he had given me, fingertips brushing over the leaf, palm resting on it. The land around us changed from home to Mirkwood, to dark Mirkwood, but Legolas remained there, illuminated, his hand remaining closed around mine.

The change of scenery was noticed by him as well, and for the first time he took his eyes from me, gazing around, the smile fading somewhat as concern replaced the love. He looked to me suddenly, eyes sharp, and grasped my hand tighter. "Already? Mela en' coiamin, Amin hiraetha... Wendy, _Amin hiraetha_..."

That rare word of affection did it. I felt like crying all of a sudden.

He was gone then, I was shaken awake, and I wasn't sure if I was upset or relieved that I'd stopped dreaming. I kept watch and tried to put the dreams aside. They made sense, really, we were in a tense situation and I was in Legolas' home town. Home forest. My mind was stressed and it wanted to see the person I loved most. No. Couldn't think about him. I had to keep watch, keep in the moment now, and protect the others.

Keeping watch was no different from earlier, the eyes were around, the bats frequent, and getting use to it made it no less tense. I wasn't even sure how long I was supposed to keep watch, there was no way to tell how much time had past without stars or moon to measure it by (and that technique wasn't one I had grasped as well as others anyway) so I just sat there and waited for as long as I dared.

For all the anxiety, the Dwarve slept soundly, even when I went to nudge Boromir awake.

"What?"

"Your turn. To watch." I explained, soft, voice overshadowed easily by the snoring around us.

Boromir sat up slowly, straightening, stretching. He muttered, "I can not tell if my eyes are open or shut... were it not for those eyes watching us I would not know at all."

"They don't seem to be doing a lot... good luck."

I settled down, shut my eyes, and felt a hand grasp mine. Different from Legolas' hand, rough, sweaty, and it held mine with a tightness that betrayed Boromir's anxiety at the situation.

"It's fine..." I muttered. "Wake me if you need me..."

"I dreamed." Boromir's voice was so soft it was nearly lost under the snoring. "Of you."

"Of me?" I opened one eye, at least I assumed I did given that I saw those reflective eyes, and peered up at him.

"Of you living. Happily."

He seemed so sad. I slowly sat up again now as Boromir continued, "But all I could do was weep at the sight. You were happy and I... I grieved over it. I was furious. I wanted to burn your home to the ground."

"Sorry..." I muttered, uncertain about how to deal with this, and I felt his hand squeeze mine so hard it almost hurt. Talking made the watching easier, not a single Dwarf woke as we spoke, and it helped.

"No. Don't be sorry. I feel as if I've been selfish." Boromir said quietly. "I have not wanted to hear of your life, moreso now I know it makes you happy, and I wonder.. Wendy. I... I do want to hear of your happy life. It was something I hoped for you, time and time again, that you were not suffering. But I am-" There was a sigh, Boromir turning his head as he gazed around us. "It makes me angry."

"At me?"

"No, Wendy, not at you. It does not have a person to be angry at. It is just there and it is there with everyone I hold most dear. My daughter, the people I love, and even my closest friends..." Boromir reached out to grasp my hand, holding it hard, as he breathed out a long slow breath. Even then his body seemed tense. "It does not have any purpose, I know this, but it feels as if it is an illness. A scar that I cannot remove."

"It won't last forever." I hoped not.

"That is what I pray for." Boromir agreed. Voice soft, quiet, as his body slowly started to relax, he added, "Even scars must fade."

"Exactly. I don't have to talk about my life..."

A shuffling in the darkness nearby made us both go quiet, but whatever it was it didn't appear, and Boromir's body tensed up a little.

"I want to see it." He insisted quietly. "Now. I was not ready. Now I want to see it."

"When we get home." I agreed, quiet, adding, "So stop flirting with death. We'll cook you a giant feast."

"Good." Boromir released my hand only now. With a gentle shove he added, "Now, sleep, and sleep well knowing that there is someone keeping watch. I will sing quietly."

"You will?"

"Yes. Now lie down. I have learnt songs from your world and soon it will be my own baby I will sing to."

"I will, I will..." I agreed, smiling faintly in the dark, picturing Boromir with his girl. Singing her to sleep. I settled down again. With the sound of sleeping Dwarves around, shuffling snorting snoring Dwarves, and the feeling of Boromir's thigh against my side, his rough quiet voice sang and it seemed to ease the forbidding nature of the forest.

_'You sit there in your heartache,  
Waiting on some beautiful boy to  
To save you from your old ways  
You play forgiveness  
Watch him now, here he comes_

_He doesn't look a thing like Jesus  
But he talks like a gentleman  
Like you imagined when you were young..._

_Can we climb this mountain? I don't know  
Higher now than ever before  
I know we can make it if we take it slow  
That's takin' easy, easy now, watch it go__...'_

The song, and his soft tired voice followed me into sleep, and it chased away all the other dreams. I saw him as I fell asleep, big protective oaf, comforting his own daughter after her first heartbreak, and it brought back all the warm fuzzy feelings that the forest had sucked away.

Nothing happened that night. No attacks. No approaches. Things watched, unseen things, and while they moved... they never moved close enough to be seen.

It didn't happen the next night either, and I didn't dream that night, nor the night after that

It was almost a nightmare that wouldn't end. Mirkwood would range from 'dark' to 'can't see your own nose black', there wasn't any wind, wasn't any air moving, and we were followed. Always followed. Suffocated by dead stale air, stalked by unseen creatures, our sense of hearing always teased with the sound of creatures moving around us and the smell of the rotting dead place...

The Dwarves sang, or tried to, and it seemed to help a tiny bit. But we walked for days. Days of dark, of black, of suffocation, the food vanishing, and as strange as it sounded, the sense of time going along with our sense of location.

Boromir spoke little, and when he did, it was as if he'd been thinking on it a long time.

"I miss the green of Lothlorien and Rivendel." Boromir admitted, quietly, glancing to me. "I could not bear it a moment, I wished only to run from that place and from that woman, but now..."

I knew what he meant. We were in here for … it could have been a week by now... and all I could do right now was picture Rivendel- beautiful Rivendel, high up, blessed with a frequent movement of air that carried up the smell of the river. Lothlorien, green and alive under the sun, loved and constantly cared for by the Elves who lived in her.

Mirkwood was worse than Fangorn. It was sicker, sadder, and yet the Elves here... I didn't know why they hadn't done something about it. Did they like the wild darkness?

Boromir's voice lowered, though it had barely been a whisper to start with, as he mused, "Are these Elves not what we're used to?"

"I was thinking the same thing." I admitted quietly. "We met one."

"Aye- but was he and his father not from another land first?" Boromir responded. At my blink he explained, sheepishly, "Did I not tell you that I did research on all of Middle Earth from your land?"

He had. _Oh_. He must have read up all the lore. Legolas didn't ever talk about his time before he met me, which may have been a little odd, but I'd just gone with it. Why not? He'd briefly mentioned that his father had been furious with him for decades (which was not so much time to an Elf anyway) over the Dwarves... and that was about it.

"I am thinking-" Boromir continued, quietly, "-that all we know of Elves we may need to forget."

"Because of the forest?" I gazed up into the canopy. No sign of sunlight. It was 'day', we suspected, but … no sun.

"Because of all we have been told and warned about." Boromir responded quietly. "Any isolated town, be it of Elves, Dwarves or Humans, would not be as their kin are when so greatly isolated from the world..."

He had a good point. Like when hippies isolated themselves in hippy communities... which, in a sad kind of way, I'd done too. Sort of. We owned a lot of land and a lot of Elves lived on it. They were considered 'strange' by their concealed kin in the world, because they were interested in the human world and wanted to study and live near it, but they still had a lot of isolation from 'normal society'. They were so unused to the modern world that they'd usually just avoid Brisbane, the nearest large city (which was still four or so hours away) and head straight for Byron Bay or better yet... Nimbin... where all the 'love, peace and truth' hippy humans lived.

I smiled faintly, affection rising for the 'young Elves' anyway, and nearly tripped over leaves into Bilbo.

"Focus!" Boromir hissed.

"Sorry." I apologised to Bilbo.

Bilbo glanced back, his eyes a little dazed, and he seemed a little surprised as he asked "For what?"

"Uh. Nothing."

"Oh." Bilbo sighed, shut his eyes a moment, and then turned to keep trudging forward.

"Are you all right?" Boromir shifted forward so that he was beside the Hobbit.

He talked with Bilbo in quiet voices, hushed under the songs of the Dwarves, and we continued onwards after Thorin and the path.

Things started to get desperate when the water started to run low, already stressed Dwarves growing more agitated, the packs now light as the food supplies started to run low. It was at this point they tried to catch and cook one of the black squirrels but it tasted so foul that we didn't try that again.

It was as if the path through the forest would go on forever, with no end, and no sign of water to be found anywhere. We tried limiting the last of our water and food, hunger and thirst becoming an additional torture to the lack of air, to the lack of sunlight, emotions and tension starting to really rise high. Boromir and myself weren't the only ones dreaming, the others did as well, and it was sometimes quite difficult to wake each other up because the dreams turned very pleasurable... escapes from the reality. Foods of water, of food, of air, sunshine, and wind were common themes.

The river appeared soon after we started rationing water, running right across the path, a deep fast flowing body of water. The darkness of Mirkwood made it hard to see the far edge, even though it didn't look particularly wide, the water black in the gloomy lighting of Mirkwood.

"Don't drink it!" Bilbo called, sudden, as Ori and Dori headed for the edge with their canteens ready.

"It must be the one we were warned of." Thorin agreed, taking a few steps forward, and frowning as his eyes went up and down the bank. "I can see no narrow part to jump across. Spread out, but keep close, see if you can see something."

We all did, spreading out across the river, getting as close to the water as we dared. It was Bilbo, who was kneeling right on the edge, who called out, "I see something. There, a boat! Across the river!"

"Where?"

"There." Bilbo pointed.

We all squinted, blinking, Thorin gesturing to Fili.

"You are the youngest with good eyesight. Can you see it?"

Fili carefully slid down the bank to Bilbo's side and squinted. He nodded, excitement in his face, agreeing. "Yes. A row boat on the far bank."

It couldn't have been more than ten metres to the other side and yet I had to admit even I couldn't see much more than a dark shadow amongst many dark shadows. But Fili was certain.

"Twelve yards, too far to swim or wade, and I wouldn't dare from the warning Beorn gave us." Thorn growled softly, his fists balling, adding, "So close."

"If we get a rope, can we throw it?" Kili offered.

"It may be tied..." Thorin responded.

"No, I don't think it is." Bilbo responded. He squinted as he leaned closer, Fili grabbing him just in time as he wobbled, and added, "It looks as if it's just on the far bank up high."

"All right. Bring two ropes and two hooks." Thorin agreed, gesturing to us, two ropes and Boromir's hiking hook as well as one of the hooks appearing. Thorin gestured to Boromir. "Bilbo, as you can see it, you direct Fili's throws. Boromir may try as well- he has a longer arm."

"Understood." Bilbo agreed.

They took turns, Boromir and Fili both trying with separate ropes, as Bilbo tried to help out.

"No, Boromir, too far to the right. Fili, you were two feet to the right... Boromir, very close, hit the bank..."

"Is it safe to touch the rope?" Dori asked quickly, as Fili was reaching down for wet rope, and Thorin nodded.

"Just the rope, I imagine, but do not hold it for longer than needed."

The rope did seem to vanish to me, as it crossed the river, like there was some kind of fog in the shadow that made it all blurry. Only Bilbo seemed to have the clearest vision of what was happening and after five minutes of frustrating work Fili struck gold.

"Got it!" Bilbo exclaimed, excited, and Boromir quickly dropped his rope to one side to help Fili. "Just pull, now, that's it... yes, it's hooked!"

There was a collective sigh of relief. Others joined Fili and Boromir as they strained, Gloin, Dwalin, Dori, the rope taunt as they tried hard to get the boat across the river. There was a sudden jolt, everyone falling back, the rope and freed boat nearly lost as Bilbo grabbed for it. He nearly got yanked into the water but I grabbed it, as did Thorin, the two of us quick to steady both the boat and Bilbo. We drew it up onto the bank, holding it tight, as Thorin turned.

"There, steady now." Thorin and I tugged the boat, the current of the river pulling hard, the others joining us. "All right. Three at a time, Boromir and Wendy together, with Bombur in the last boat."

"Why the last boat?" Bombur complained.

"You're the heaviest and so must be with the lightest boatload" Thorin responded.

"No oars though." Kili gazed inside the rocking boat.

"We need a rope to go to the other side. Boromir, can you throw yours over a branch over there?"

Boromir nodded, standing, taking his rope and hook. It took several goes before he'd hooked a branch safely.

"There, now, we can tie this rope-" Fili held up the hook that we'd used to get the boat, "-and hook it on this side. Tie it over there when we've made it across and use the rope to get back and forward."

"Great!" Balin laughed, clapping Fili's shoulder, and nodded. "All right. Who's first?"

It was that way that we made our way across, myself and Boromir the second boatload, and we kept watch as the others three by three crossed the river as well. It was a relief to be over that strange magical river... there was seriously no other word for it... and it was just as Bombur and Dwalin were coming across that the others got distracted.

By food.

"Look!"

We all looked, Bofur's bow already out, Thorin quick to follow, their weapons seen before I saw what it was. A deer.

A big beautiful deer with great antlers. Natural deer, not Mirkwood-creepy-deer, who looked as lost as we felt.

"Dinner!"

"Wa-" I was cut off as the deer bound past, heading for the river, Thorin's release of the arrow almost beautiful as it found the side of the deer mid-leap... just as it leapt across the entire river somehow. There were cheers for a second, as the deer fell on the other side of us, cheers cut short as the deer ...landed on the other side and was lost into the forest, arrow in one side as it fled us.

"Bombur is drowning!" Bilbo called, sudden, and there was a haste to grab the fat Dwarf just as he vanished underwater.

"Shit..." I groaned, trying to grab for a handful of Bombur's cloak, the others trying to help as w dragged his soggy ass out of the river. The water felt strange on my arms, very strange, tingly and ...weird... and it was a relief to get my arms out of the river.

We hoisted the dwarf onto the side of the bank. Bombur was fast asleep now, snoring away, complete and utter peace written all over his fat face as he lay back on the riverbed.

"Shit." Boromir agreed.

"We'll have to carry him. Craft a stretcher. He'll wake at some point." Thorin sighed, eyes raising up, all cheer at the sight of the deer gone now. "Four a time. Dori, Fili, Kili, Nori..."

There were groans as they were assigned.

It didn't take long to craft a stretcher out of two pieces of wood, Bombur rolled onto it onto his belly, and the four dwarves groaned as they had to lift him up. His pack was handed to me and I hoisted it onto my back beside my other one.

It wasn't heavy at first, not with the lack of food and water, but as we started into the forest, weary and hungry and thirsty, it wasn't long before we all felt the weight of Bombur and his pack.

Things got worse, a lot worse, the thirst tormenting us, Bombur snoring on happily with a stupid satisfied smile on his face. God... I was so hungry... and so were the others, they ended up trying to catch those squirrels again, and ended up wasting the arrows as the squirrels easily dodged. Or maybe we were loosing the ability to focus properly. Then there were white deer, beautiful creatures, and the last of the arrows wasted trying to catch one. Not a single one was caught...

It reminded me of the Oberon legends, and I refused to shoot, remembering that in my world those white deer were sacred. Stupid reason... but I refused to part with my arrows. Particularly for white deer. Using the excuse 'they're sacred' was as good a reason as any.

Worse yet... we lost the path.

I didn't know how. Neither did the others. We'd been trying to catch food, so it might have been then, or it might have been when we'd been sure we'd heard running water... but suddenly Dwalin called out that the path was missing and chaos erupted.

We spread out, trying to find it, but whatever had happened... it was long gone.

Bombur was passed around. He slept on for several more days, smile remaining as we grew hungrier and more desperate, only allowing ourselves tiny sips of water now.

"How much further?"

"I don't know... if we cannot find the path..."

There was cursing all around, the most common form of talking lately, and Bombur was dropped down heavily. Two days of searching for a path.

Two. Fucking. Days.

I groaned, sitting down heavily, head in hands as I craved water. Lake. River. Didn't care. I'd have gone back for that water right about now... and I wasn't alone, the others had slumped down a moment, exhausted.

"Come on." Thorin gestured. He'd become almost fixated on walking... and he jabbed and kicked at each of us, myself included, trying to get us on our feet. "We need to keep going."

"Where? Where are we going?" Balin complained quietly, the old Dwarf clearly exhausted, but he stood heavily. "All right. Come on, lads and lass..."

"Uh huh." Slowly I rose up, shoulders slumped, Boromir exchanging a worried glance with me.

We continued onwards. I had no idea how, not really, it was almost like it was a dream in its own, one where I sometimes was convinced I could hear singing or laughter. Who knew? The trees were covered in fungus, the forest unpleasant and sick smelling, leaves pale, and after some walking they changed to include many old silver birches... just as dark, just as separate from the sun and wind and air... but like ghostly twisted gnarled figures in the darkness, hundreds of ancient silver trunks that only added to the confusing darkness that was Mirkwood.

The last of the food was eaten just before it began to rain. Not wonderful rain, soaking water that we could collect, but teasing droplets of water from above... that only tormented how thirsty everyone was, there were too few drips of rainwater to be collected, too few to be drunk to satisfy the thirst.

Maybe it was four days, I assumed so, when Bombur finally woke.

God. I wanted to kick him so hard when he started to whine about having great dreams about feasts of food and water with Elves... and I probably wasn't alone. We'd been hoisting his sorry ass all over the damned forest and he'd been having wet dreams about food and water. Not only that...but crying about wanting to go back.

"Shut up." Thorin snapped, as Bombur opened his mouth to continue, and he kicked the stretcher to one side. "We walk."

Basically the only thing he'd said to anyone for days. Shut up. We walk.

I cursed along with the Dwarves, pretty good at it by now, and that was exactly what we did. It was at this point that we saw them.

Balin did first, freezing, exclaiming, "I may be affected by hunger... but is that not a twinkle of light in the forest?"

He gestured forward and we all crowded around, squinting, peering. Balin was right. There it was, in the distance, clearly seen through a gap between trunks. There were lights in the distance. Red lights, twinkling, some distance off.

Elves.

I knew it straight away, knew those lights, and almost charged forward for them when Boromir grabbed my shoulder.

He shook his head, his face tense, and with a voice that betrayed how desperate he too needed water he reminded me, "Be _careful_."

No one else paid his words any mind, however, everyone had started for the lights through the thick undergrowth. Boromir stayed close to my side as we followed, very close, and the closer we drew the clearer it was that those lights were torches and fires under the trees.

"My dream!" Bombur huffed, struggling on his legs, "See? I told you... I told you I saw Elves and food..."

"Quiet." Thorin hissed. "A feast is no good if we die getting it."

"We'll die without one..." Bombur retorted, shushed by Dori, his face red as he tried to keep up.

He wasn't wrong about that. We were all back to starving again. We weren't in a good place now...

There was a discussion... or rather, argument... about who would go see, and it wasn't helped as Bombur started to list off all the kinds of foods he'd dreamed about. No one could decide who would go and finally we all went, sliding low, trying to get close to those torches and fires.

I felt like crying with relief when I saw what it was. Elves. Elves in green and brown, laughing, dancing, roasting meats and foods everywhere, fires and torches dangling and dancing in the trees around. They were so happy, so merry, and the smell of the food so strong and enticing... that when the Dwarves charged out, I did as well, forcing Boromir to let go of me as he tried to yank me back.

Soot and ash exploded into my face as the fires exploded into darkness, like some kind of magic had cut them all down, and it was that same pitch black that was night. Ashes rose and choked our poor lungs. By the time we were able to find one another and see again, the darkness releasing us, the Elves and food were gone, leaving only the hot ashes and empty space where they had once been.

"They're gone..."

"Left all the food as well." Bombur looked like he wanted to cry again, slumping down on the grass, exhausted.

"Must have scared them..." Balin slumped down as well, regretful, and muttered, "Now, Thorin, give us a few hours rest. It gets dark anyway."

Thorin sighed and sunk down next to Balin. "We will rest now, till morning."

There was only a tiny bit of relief at that- no one seemed to want to stay a minute longer in Mirkwood. We didn't have much choice though. I sunk down as well, exhausted, and tried to rest. No more food and one water skin left between all of us.

I didn't remember that from the movie either.

Midway through that night we saw them again. Lights in the distance.

"Stop!" Thorin ordered, just as everyone was rising up, and he stood up heavily. "We cannot frighten them again. Bilbo, Wendy."

"Yes?"

"Huh, me?" I blinked.

"You know something of Elves. Go together. Ask for help. Neither of you will be as frightening as we all were..." Thorin muttered a soft plea as I hesitated, "_Please_."

I nodded, sighed, and started after Bilbo. We did need help. I'd do my best.

The Elves had moved into a new area, several miles away, and Bilbo and myself walked ahead of the others as they trailed us closely from behind. He was so quiet and I was struggling to do the same, though Bilbo was patient with me, and together we snuck closer, the others right behind us.

Creeping and crawling very slowly, we advanced towards the clearing, the sounds of Elven song and loud laughter echoing through the forest as music played and the smell of food overwhelmed my senses. There were more than ever now, twice as many lights if not more, as if the Elves we'd disturbed had simply found another party and resumed their celebrating with the others.

Bilbo and I were just considering how to do it, at least that was what I assumed he was doing, when someone behind us got impatient... and we were both more or less shoved into the middle of the celebration.

There was once again a glimpse of Elves, of dancing, of enjoyment, and then the shock on their face as we stumbled into their midst...

But there was also Legolas.

We met eyes, the first real eye contact I had made with any Elf here, and there was a shock of energy between us. It was so real, so tangible, that even Legolas took a step backwards, my own body staggering back as if struck from his direction.

Sometimes this had happened after time apart in the past. We'd had five years since meeting, five long years and sometimes Legolas could not come meet me in Minas Tirith when I returned to Middle Earth with Cele, and when those long periods of separation happened we'd reunite... and there would be an explosion of energy. That was usually the sign to get someone to babysit Cele for the night and for us to vanish somewhere private. For hours.

This was different.

It was stronger, it took my breath away a moment, goosebumps rising on my arms and my heart rate suddenly speeding up, every inch of my body tensing as adrenaline flooded me. I was physically aroused, extremely so, and yet somehow afraid as well... aware that something was wrong.

It was also different in one other very obvious change- Legolas, instead of meeting my eyes with love or affection, frightened me with the expression on his face. He had one of his white knives in hand, a knife that had not been there just before, his knuckles whitening around it, a subtle gesture that I understood very well to be a threat. I was an animal. A threat. Something he did not intend on keeping around.

I had never been afraid of him before. Never.

At this moment though, at this terrible moment, I was. He was a stranger to me and yet, somehow, we were still energetically bonded. I could see that he would have gladly killed me... a terrible urge that made his face tense, take on an expression usually reserved for our times in the past when we'd be in a fight together, and I backed up one more step.

Legolas, this Legolas, was considering _killing me_. I knew him far too well to know otherwise.

It was just a second, two at the most, but it could have been as if we'd had ten minutes... the way everything slowed, stretched out, the 'time' we'd had to really see one another...

Then he was gone. They were _all gone_, darkness and ash in our faces as the Elves vanished into the forest, the feast vanishing, music cut out, laughter gone, all of it as if a spell had been dropped over them... or us... so that we could no longer tell where they had gone.

If I wasn't blinded I would have felt like vomiting. I didn't know why, I didn't know how to explain it, except that this time... this time it _was wrong_. He was wrong. This was not going to be a romantic time in Mirkwood.

I lay there, blinded and dazed and confused, surrounded by Dwarves until I could see again, and by then Legolas was long gone leaving me with that strange fear and apprehension. It wasn't of Mirkwood. It was of him.

* * *

A/N:

Phew the heat wave is over... and I can write again! :) If I can just get my silly mouse to work...

Quick translation...

A'maelamin

(My beloved.)

Mela en' coiamin, Amin hiraetha... _my_ Wendy, Amin hiraetha..."

(Love of my life, I'm sorry... my Wendy, I'm sorry...)


	17. Not a welcome guest

The next day we wandered, tired, and when Bofur found his own pack of tobacco, discovered that we'd been walking in circles. The big tough dwarves all looked like they wanted to cry at that discovery, so tired, so exhausted, and they did what most men (or women) seemed to do rather than cry... they got really angry.

So did Thorin. Thorin was furious.

They argued amongst themselves, as myself and Boromir stood there numbly, before Boromir too joined in the arguing. Shouting began, raised voices echoing around, blame thrown around for the loss of the path and Mirkwood and the amount of time we'd been here and food and... and anything else, everything else the hungry, sick, thirsty and tired Dwarves and man could think of.

Bilbo vanished, I realised, and Thorin had given up arguing.

He was too obsessed with moving to bother. He'd taken one step, one slow step forward, his legs uneasy, before he realised what I'd remembered.

"Quiet! We're being watched!"

Oh, bugger me... Spiders.

I grasped for the cans of inspect stuff, both of them, throwing one at Boromir who took one look at it and held it hard in his free hand. The other dragged me close to his side, sudden, muttering, "You will fire your arrows and I will watch your back..."

"Like old tim-" I tried to joke.

There wasn't time, I was cut off as the first sounds of combat from behind got us both spinning around, my bow fumbling in my hands as I tried to shove the can into my belt... and came face to face, arm to ...bity fangs... with the biggest spider I had seen in my life.

I probably cried out in pain, I couldn't remember, as the thing grabbed my arm and gave it a horrible sharp bite... it was the look on Boromir's face when he turned to see it that really got my mental focus. He snapped. Can out, spraying at the spider, who shrieked and tried to drag me backwards as it retreated. Boromir dragged me closer, or tried to, only for him to be bitten and dragged another direction.

The fight began, spiders as big as the Dwarves lunging from around and above, the Dwarves trying to make a protective circle, and … the honest truth was that, while we had some skill, we were still starving and dehydrated. It was a slaughter.

I didn't know how long the actual fight lasted for, because after just a minute of struggling with the spider lodged onto my arm, I was dragged backwards with my weapons lost in the struggle.

It almost didn't seem real. Almost. I could hardly believe I was staring at my own arm being penetrated by fangs, bloody rings around them, because I couldn't … couldn't feel it. Could I? I didn't know. I was already in shock and that was never a good sign.

I found my can, the others out of sight now, and remembered I had something too. I managed to dislodge it with my own can of … was it inspect repellent or was it the inspect killer?... was sprayed directly into its face. With another horrible shriek the spider finally released me, letting me go, and staggered backwards into the dark of the forest.

I stood there, trembling from head to toe, fumbling for a knife or something in my pack, and only had seconds before a second spider (or was it the same one?) lunged for my leg and grabbed it, dragging me right off my feet altogether, the knife lost as my hand seemed to slip on it. Blood had trickled down that arm onto the handle... it was so hard to hold.

The spider dragged me once it had released the bite on my leg, yanking me, the urge to fall asleep rising as it spun me around and around.

I wanted to sleep so bad. Never had I wanted to sleep so much before now. I could already see my dreams, wonderful dreams of feasts and Elves and home, and yet I could also see this spider spinning me on the thick leafy floor of the forest, feel my legs being twisted and tied and bound, the pack still on my back making it hard for the spider to turn me around. I was sure I could hear voices calling, shouting, screaming, the sounds of fighting... but it was further and further away as I was dragged.

Something in my mind screamed to stay awake.

It was failing, that scream, but it bugged me enough to press the spray on the can again for good measure as the the spider tried to drag me upside down.

It did not like that, it shrieked, another penetrating shriek that only slightly penetrated the horrible fog that was sinking over my conciousness. Somehow I managed to keep it pointed at the spider and just 'let er rip' as long as I could keep my grip on the can.

There was a sense of falling all of a sudden, as the spider fell backwards as well, attacked to me by the thread as it tumbled down a steep slope. It fell, I was dragged, it shrieking the entire way the spider web keeping us connected right up til we both tumbled over the edge of a small rocky cliff... and into a river.

Can was lost, my pack torn and dragged and hit by stone as the current dragged myself and the spider downstream, the need to sleep far greater now than the need to stay above the water. I couldn't stop it, I couldn't prevent it, and within seconds of being in the water... I passed out.

To my compete and utter shock I woke to find myself nearly fully submerged. It'd all seemed like a dream, the spiders, the fight, all of it... and all I could see were high riverbanks that were steep all around. The pack was torn away and long gone, my arm swollen up badly from a spider bite, and a … rat. On my knee above the water. Trembling.

I nearly threw it into the water as fast as I could. Nearly. Except that it was the first thing I'd seen in Mirkwood that wasn't black or grey, instead it was a beautiful golden brown with white bits, and it had strangely intelligent eyes.

"Huh..."

It turned as I spoke, trembling, running the front legs over its whiskers as it made eye contact with me. The little creature looked very unhappy. There was something about it too, something in the intelligence in the face, that made it seem … like another group of animals we'd only just left.

It clung to my pants with its nails as I rose up slowly, eyes down to the water, but I didn't lower my knee into the water.

"Are you one of Beorn's friends?"

I'd never seen a happy rat. Most people probably hadn't. But it did its very best to agree, first with a lot of head bobbing up and down, then with several frantic runs in circles, and then finally... as it grasped its own tail... another set of nodding of its head as it stood there trembling from head to toe.

"Okay, jump up and down."

There was a hesitation, as it glanced down to the water, and then it did a tiny pathetic little jump that resulted in it clinging even harder to the fabric after.

I sighed and shut my eyes. Oh boy. We'd kidnapped one of his friends after all. "So how did you get here? Hmm? Suppose the only way is in a pack... and if I were a rat... were you sneaking rations and fall asleep in a pack?" I opened one eye to look at it. It didn't answer, at least not verbally, but from the way it slumped I supposed I had some or all of that right. "Poor thing. Bet you're terrified..."

I reached down for it, half expecting to be bitten, but to my surprise it more or less leapt into my outstretched hands and ran for the space between my chin and the jacket. It climbed in and huddled there under the fabric, trembling, snuffling. Now I had … something else to worry about.

"Bet Beorn will be worried about you." I tried to be light, but talking was hard, and I was sitting waist deep in a river. Distracted a moment from the rat I gazed down. I wasn't forgetting much, I wasn't sleepy, and the water seemed...I didn't know. Safe? "Should I drink that?"

There wasn't much of an answer from the creature under my jacket. I hesitated and glanced around. There was a lightness to the canopy above, just a slight lightness, the leaves a little lighter than I'd remembered them being all this time. The water seemed to be fast flowing.

God. I was so thirsty and my body ached so much. I shut my eyes a moment, aware of pain, nausea and weakness that made even getting water hard, and trembled from head to toe as if I too were a scared rat.

I had a bite on my leg, the pants were torn to prove that, and another on my arm, and fragments of silken thread on me... had they tried to wrap me or had I just stumbled through webbing trying to escape? Stupid. Stupid. _Stupid_. I'd stumbled. I remembered it now. Spiders attacked. We attacked back. Spiders bit. I tripped over webbing, tumbled down a small hill, and ended up in this river. I couldn't even tell if I'd been swept away or not... but there was no sounds of fighting Dwarves nearby to tell me if they were close or not.

I grasped a scoopful of water with one trembling hand, only managing to get a tiny mouthful, but the sense of water in my mouth was … it was _incredible_. I might have stuck my whole head in the water if it wasn't for the rat I might accidentally drown doing so. With a few more gulps of the water I started to feel strangely human again. Tired, sick, and human.

There were either toxins from the bites or the water was not safe, but either way, it wasn't long before I passed out once again. The next time I woke it was to the strangely convincing hallucination of Elves.

I wasn't in the river now, I was lying on the ground with my legs in it, and I stared up blankly as Elves stood around me in a circle. God. I wanted to vomit _so bad_... but how could I vomit in front of such pretty hallucination?

Slowly I sat up, the Elves stepping back quickly as I did, arrows pointed at me as I tried to sit up straight.

"Honestly." I groaned, as a horrible Mexican wave (it kept repeating up and down the 'stands') of nausea rolled backwards and forwards over me. "Can't a woman get sick in private?" Then, repeating myself in Elvish with, " , I was surprised to see how shocked they were.

Yeah. I spoke some Elvish.

They talked suddenly, their Elvish too fast and too lyrical for me to really catch, which made me start to wonder if perhaps this wasn't a hallucination after all. I managed to sit fully upright, still soaking wet from the river, and reached for my neck carefully to make sure the poor rat was still safe.

It was, it curled into my hand, clearly frightened out of its wits still. Or hungry. It must not have had much to eat either.

"You want some food, don't you, poor buddy." I cooed to it gently. "I know."

"A rat!"

"Kill it!"

Maybe they said that in Elvish, maybe not, I was too dazed for my brain to tell me which it had converted from sound to words... but there was no way I was allowing that.

"This is one of Beorn's rats! Don't kill it!" I insisted, as they went to grab it, myself first to grab the trembling big brown creature. Shesh. How sad was it that the highlight of my day was … a rat's friendship.

"The skin changer..."

There was an exchange in Elvish, sharp and quick, one of the Elves glancing back over their shoulders to the trees themselves. Were they worried about the spiders? I grasped the rat close to my chest, the whiskers tickling my throat as the poor wet thing huddled there, snuffling and sneezing, long seconds passing.

There was a pause suddenly, as someone emerged from the trees in a light jump.

That woman. That Elf woman.

She stared at me a long time, at my sodden soaked nature, frowning lightly. Then she reached down for the rat. When I refused, she insisted, "I will not hurt it if it does not hurt me."

"Better not. It's clearly not a Mirkwood rat." If there was any at all. I didn't know why I felt so protective... I just wanted to be protective over something. It made me feel less afraid.

This woman, this red-headed Elven woman that I'd seen with Legolas in the movie, knelt and gazed to the rat on her hand for a long time. Then she smiled faintly and stood.

"Captain?"

"This _is_ the skin changer's friend." She agreed quietly. "Whom we do not wish to anger at this moment. You and you will take it to his Hall, unseen, and you will care for it till it is safely home . If the rat wishes to speak of its adventures, it may, but we do not need to be involved more than we need to."

The Elf that received the rat nodded, gazing down at the creature, before it turned and vanished into the forest with another Elf. They didn't seem the slightest bit surprised by the orders. Maybe animal rescue was a hobby. Clearly gardening _wasn't_... they needed to be able to do something.

I groaned as I felt my muscles start to contract painfully, curling up on my back once again, my leg and arm in agony. God. Bloody spiders. I didn't care how much I splashed about and got their pretty legs wet... it hurt, it really really hurt, like a frozen ORC blade... all rough and blunt and cold... was running up and down my limbs under the skin.

"Now, as for the woman..." The Elf Lady turned to me.

There was a motion in the trees again, and now he showed, and I was not surprised at all when the new Elf showed himself. Maybe I'd always known he was up there hiding and watching. Somehow. I opened one eye, knowing who it'd be, and feeling no real comfort for seeing it confirmed as Legolas strode forward.

He bent down over me, examining me, and then with a swift motion, had more or less torn the leaf necklace off my neck and off my head. Legolas held it up, backing up, staring at it. When he looked to me, once again I sensed it, that genuine hatred.

Yet there it was. Our 'bond'. It was as palpable as it had always been, strong as it had always been, right till I could almost swear I sensed his emotions... or could guess them well.

Why did he hate me so much?

Legolas withdrew his bow slowly, the necklace slid around his neck as he reached for an arrow, and with a strange slow draw, pointed the arrow at me.

"Legolas?" Elf Lady quiet, gentler, the other Elves taking several steps backwards. She took a step between us, quickly, catching his attention.

"Move. It is a thief, a witch, a creature of darkness."

"I cannot, as you know," She responded quietly and quickly, "- for our orders are clear. She was seen with the Dwarves- she must be brought in."

This may not have been 'my' Legolas but I knew kinds of expressions he was giving her as he finally looked in her direction. The expression he gave me sometimes. Used to. Would. There … there couldn't actually be anything between them. Could there?

She glanced back to me, surprise in her face, as our eyes met, strangely as involved in the intimate energy flowing between myself and Legolas as we were... a third energy, so to speak, connected to this. Not a lover, not even by a long stretch, but she... she made me feel strangely … hesitant to hate her. Like I already liked her.

I didn't want to like her. I could tell how smitten he was with her.

It was hard to describe- what went on between the two of us, herself and myself, but something seemed to tie us both together the moment she'd made eye contact with me. A bond that I didn't understand. I wanted to hate her, I wanted to be mind blowingly jealous of anything she had with Legolas, but suddenly I couldn't.

I didn't hate her. Nor did she hate me. It made no sense but she turned, sudden, ordering in Elvish for the other Elves to retreat. Then she was turning back to Legolas.

He spat at me, such venom in his voice, face twisted with a real sense of loathing and disgust, "_Witch_," as he once again raised the bow.

"What!" I exclaimed, weakly, and raised my hands up. "Woah, I can't actually talk to rats, I just guessed right!"

A arrow flew past, or at least that had been what I'd expected, and I was too numb and weakened to feel anything more than surprise when I saw it sticking out of my arm... the Elf Lady having kicked me to one side. It was bleeding. I felt strangely detached from that aspect of it...

Elf Lady seemed to snap out of her surprise only now. She strode forward, just as Legolas raised his bow once again, his intent impossible to mistake.

"I'll handle the woman." She told Legolas. He frowned at her, his bow not wavering at me, and shot me another dark look.

"It has strength of dark curses, dark spells, and a thief also for it has-"

"Is it?" Elf Lady's eyes were on me but her head twisted in his direction slightly, a subtle gesture that I noticed somehow, her arm still between myself and Legolas. "It is a _woman_, daughter of the humans, Legolas, and _that is all_. We have orders from your father to bring all survivors..."

There was silence for a long moment before the blond Elf turned and walked off, barking an order in Elvish, the other Elves reappearing. They vanished into the trees, all except for two of them, Tauriel calling to them just as they were about to leave.

Something about waiting, I suspected, but I felt too sick to care.

Holy hell.

Had Legolas actually shot me?

I gazed down again, blinking slowly, staring at the arrow sunk fairly well into one arm. He wasn't going for my arm. He'd have been going for the heart right beside it. One solid shot, good arm, and I'd be … except that his _girlfriend_ had prevented it. God. Legolas had a girlfriend. He'd tried to kill me. This was not how I'd wanted to visit Mirkwood.

Elf Lady, Tauriel, remained beside me for a few long seconds.

"If you must be sick, be sick, for it will help..." She urged.

"God..." I groaned, nausea responding, and managed to complain, "You're not supposed to be nice... I'm supposed to _hate_ you..."

I did vomit now, pain be damned, and could barely do much else as the Elves came forward to hoist me to my feet and drag me through the forest. There was something sudden in Tauriel's face, a sympathy, but she was distracted now as her head raised. Like she could hear something I couldn't.

"Take her to the others." She ordered, sharp, standing, and added in Elvish I did manage to catch... or guess... "She is to be treated and taken alive cells like all the others by the King's own order. You will follow his orders above all others."

There was a nod, agreement, Tauriel leaping off for the trees and gone within seconds.

They weren't particularly gentle, exactly, but they weren't rough either. I was hoisted up onto my feet and with some effort led up the slope. It was hard, I just wanted to sleep, and from time to time they had to jab me when I felt my mind trying to close itself off into another rest... walking or not.

The others looked shocking. Covered in spider webs, already surrounded by suspicious Elves, and genuinely relieved to see me when I was shoved into the middle. They were all covered in spider webs, in bites, torn fabric and blood showing where they too had been bitten by those fangs, and yet they seemed wide awake.

Boromir caught me, arms closing around me, his face paling at the sight of the arrow. He reminded me of it... I'd been more interested in sleep than in arrows.

"What-" He started, shocked, and then … he looked straight to Legolas.

Smart bloody man. He couldn't miss the look on Legolas' face either. Boromir's face grew white, not with shock now, but with anger.

"That an elf arrow..." Fili muttered, quiet, the other Dwarves noticing instantly.

Even Thorin seemed to be angry all of a sudden. If he'd ever wondered about my 'Not a friend of the Elves' story... now he clearly believed it, drawing me back as well, standing between myself and the others.

"Where's Kili?" Fili realised, sudden, and called, "Kili!"

Tauriel would be there. I remembered that. I let it go, letting the others stress and worry, and when Boromir muttered, "You can trust me to keep you safe..." I took his word for it.

"You too." I insisted, quiet, but he didn't laugh. He just inhaled slowly, his entire body tense.

I let it go for a moment or two, let him hug me with his wonderful bear hug, but within seconds my pride did not allow it. I stood back, ignoring the Elves, all except for one.

Him, I could not ignore, not even if I had my back to him.

Pain was starting to reappear now, slowly, which brought my mind back from the dazed exhaustion it had been in. I focused, breathing in, adrenaline flooding me as I started to feel the real agony of the arrow itself...

It somehow made it easier to stand upright, to ignore the toxins, the others alert and awake around me.

"Bind their hands." Legolas ordered, sharp. "Injuries must be ignored until they are in their cells. Search them."

The Elves approached us, ropes binding wrists, weapons stripped from everyone. I had nothing left to take, except the wedding ring, and that was quickly discovered and tossed to Legolas. He took one look at it and tossed it aside.

Somehow that hurt more than the arrow still in my shoulder. I felt like I was loosing the ability to breathe. No. That wasn't okay.

"I need that ring..." I breathed out, quiet, and as Ori bent down to get it, Legolas shoved him back upright.

"Leave it." He ordered sharply. Legolas hoisted something from Gloin's pockets, opening the silver book with the sketches of Gimli and his mother, and raised an eyebrow. "What is this, your brother?"

"That's my _wife_." Gloin grunted, offended, glaring up at the Elf.

"And this... goblin mutant?"

"That's my wee lad, Gimli..."

Boromir opened his mouth, as Legolas slammed it shut, and I gave him a light jab in the stomach with my bound hands. That hurt like hell but it shut him up. He nodded and closed his jaw, his neck strangely throbbing, anger barely concealed below his surface.

He was going to have a hell of a lot to say to Legolas, I imagined, when I took him home. I had a horrible feeling the arrow was going to be the highlight of this trip.

Kili appeared moments later, grinning faintly like he'd won some lottery, Fili only now allowing them to search him. They stood side by side, Kili ignored as Fili was searched, and through the red haze of pain that was starting to keep me alert... I saw it.

I wasn't an Elf. I wasn't magical. But … was it because I had it, that I saw it?

Kili and Tauriel.

Holy hell.

I saw it as clearly as if sunlight had come through the forest, shone on the two of them, and made them both glitter with the bond. They had it.

Holy hell.

The Elf and the Dwarf. That … that was strange, spectacular, and ...totally _weird_.

If Legolas had noticed, and I was sure he had, he didn't say it. He and Tauriel exchanged a quick conversation in Elvish, something about spiders coming, but her eyes seemed drawn time and time again to Kili.

I suspected she knew. Kili clearly knew something was up- he could barely keep his eyes off the red-haired Elf and she kept glancing at him, remaining right beside him, going to bind his wrists personally.

Legolas took the sword from Thorin, raising it, awe openly on his face as he gazed down at the ancient Elf sword.

"This is an Elvish blade, forged by my kin..." He exclaimed in Elvish, clearly awestruck as he raised it up. I noticed, as he admitted it above his head, that my necklace was around his neck as well. The silver-and-green leaf glinted in the dull light against his armour. Legolas turned to Thorin. "Where did you get this?"

"It was given to me." Thorin responded, voice dark, his back pressed against my side. I had this odd sense that his anger wasn't just at Legolas for his father. It was nice to think he was angry about my injury, sure, but it was unhelpful... because we really all did need help. Balin should have been talking, as he was best at talking out difficult situations, but the old Dwarf could barely stand, led alone talk, his eyes clouded with pain and venom.

Legolas gazed down at the sword a long moment, the other hand reaching up to touch the leaf pendant, disbelief clear on his face. I'd never seen so many emotions shown to strangers before... another sign, I realised, of how youthful this Legolas was, how _young_. He hadn't learnt to conceal his emotions yet.

He slowly held out the sword, the tip of it against Thorin's throat, anger and disgust clear on his face as he stared down Thorin, muttering, "Not just a thief. A liar as well."

His eyes went to me, briefly, with that same gut wrenching look. I could feel that he'd have liked nothing more than to threaten my throat with that same blade. Instead he growled, shouting for the others in Elvish, and we were off.

"Thorin, where's Bilbo?" Bofur whispered, urgent, as he passed us.

Thorin turned to look, as I was shoved forward behind Nori, Bilbo... very clearly missing.

Tauriel escorted Kili, which was the only amusing thing for me, but it also hurt... because she hadn't shoved an arrow through his shoulder.

The walk was long, the path unclear, and my pride constantly getting chaffed as I kept stumbling and struggling to keep up. I wasn't alone. Everyone struggled, although they tried their hardest to pretend otherwise, we were all staggering about and finding it hard to keep going in a single file.

Sunlight appeared, very fast, the forest changing. We were almost blinded by the beautiful green of the forest, the silvery brown trunks, the lushness that Mirkwood lacked everywhere else. Here the Elves clearly cared and protected it, nourished it, animals and birds all over the place.

There was a bridge ahead. In single file we crossed it, Boromir constantly glancing backwards for me from where he walked near the front of the line, his eyes either on me or on the Elf behind me. One by one we we were led into the gate, Legolas ignoring me as I was shoved past him, and into the darkness of the Elven City.

I heard Legolas order for the gate to be closed, hesitating, aware Bilbo... might be trying to keep up.

I glanced backwards, catching Legolas' eye, and his face darkened. He grasped me, hoisting me backwards into the sunlight again, rough and causing me to gasp in pain.

"What are you?" He hissed, voice soft, fingers bruising on my arm. "What?"

"Ow..." It was the best I could answer with, too exhausted and tired for much else, and shut my eyes. "I'm Wendy. That's what. O...ow... that _hurts_..."

Legolas seemed angrier still for no clear answer, he shoved me back forward for the Elf Guards, and I stumbled in after the others. In we went, past beautiful Elves, past the great hall, only a glimpse of the throne where the Elf King waited, and down deep into the bowls of the city itself.

There, in the darker tunnels, we were separated. I didn't know that would happen, and clearly no one else had either, because there was a lot of arguing as the party was separated... but the Elves did it anyway. We were all too weak and sick to fight.

I ended up alone in a cell, Fili and Kili nearby, but the others led far away and out of hearing. With the cells glowing warmly with torches for light and with actual beds for comfort, we finally could sleep... and yet somehow it was the most uncomfortable place I'd been in for a long time.

Healers came after a time, herbs and alcohol used to numb the pain and put me into a sleepy stupor as they tended to the bites and the arrow. I didn't feel much of it by the time they'd drugged me up but I felt it hours later when I woke.

"Wendy..."

The soft hiss from nearby made me jump, Kili pressed against the bars of his cage, and when he saw me emerge, relief flooded his face. "You were asleep for a long time."

"Was I? They gave me something to sleep, I think..."

"Is the arrow gone?" Fili appeared as well, peering at me across the darkness f the tunnels, and he seemed relieved when he saw it was indeed long gone. "That's a relief."

"Aye, we were worried." Kili smiled and relaxed against the bars. "You snore usually. It was too quiet."

I smiled weakly, I suspected they were teasing, and leaned against the cold metal of my own bars. I was hungry and thirsty... but not hazy. "Haha. Are... have we heard the others? Are they nearby?"

"No, I don't think so." Kili responded quietly. "We've called, shouted, stamped and shouted some more. Nothing but echoes."

"They must be keeping us in small groups." Fili agreed. "Do you have food?"

"No, do you?"

"No... but we have water. You should too." Fili answered.

"Drink it slow." Kili warned quietly. "Or you'll throw it back up."

Water! I backed away at that, checking my own cell, and was so relieved to find that I did indeed have water. Several jugs worth. It was a seriously hard effort to not gulp it all down in one go. I poured a cup's worth, took it to the door, and made myself sip it slowly... because I couldn't bear vomiting any up and wasting it.

It was a relief to have the twins nearby, even if the others were missing, and I could tell they were glad for me there as well.

"The female elf insisted." Fili explained, once I'd drunk and relaxed, adding, "Not sure why."

"Because she's a woman too. They have bigger hearts." Kili muttered.

That reminded me, reminded me of the thing between the dwarf and the Elf, but I didn't want to bring it up in front of Fili. Not yet. It might have been my imagination anyway.

"Shame they aren't big enough to bring us food..." Fili sunk down, sitting on the ground near the door, and sighed as he leaned his head against the bars. "I am starved."

"We all are..." Kili agreed. His voice rose as he shouted, "You hear that, Elves? We're _hungry_!"

That made me smile, which made Kili smile, and for a while he entertained himself with the echoes in the place. Eventually food was brought, more than enough, and yet it didn't quieten the twins as they kept getting me to talk to them.

I knew they were worried about me. I was worried about it all. This … this was not the kind of Elven reception I was used to. Sure, Lothlorien had been pretty frosty, but the Lady Galadriel had made that all worth it. It grew dark in the halls, the torches burning out, which we had to assume meant 'night'. I crawled into bed then, as the others apparently did, and tried to sleep.

It didn't work out very well the first 'night'... if it had been night at all. I kept waking, frustrated, hurting myself time and time again as I jarred my shoulder, restless, the darkness as suffocating and horrible as Mirkwood had been. However nice the bed, however filling the food and satisfying the water, it was still a cell and barely any air moved down here any more than it had in Mirkwood.

I didn't know if the Dwarves slept any better that night- it was so quiet, so horribly quiet, and enhanced even more so by the way I'd grown used to the sound of snoring every night. Even the sounds from Fili and Kili's cell seemed muffled and blocked by the stone we were kept in.

When light returned to the tunnels, lit by an Elf unseen by any of us who also brought food and water, we all looked bloody awful. I was in some pain again now, my shoulder on fire, something in the food easing it only a little.

It was still hard to believe it had happened in the way it had, and yet somehow it wasn't, because I remembered the look on his face... and although I tried to reason my way out of it, the logical conclusion was that it would have happened if it wasn't for Tauriel. That was the bottom line. I would be lying dead and rotting in Mirkwood.

"That arrow-" Kili spoke up, as we all sat at the edges of our cells, eating 'together', "-was no accident, was it?"

"Not exactly." I admitted, shut my eyes a moment, and muttered, "It was more of an accident that it missed."

"Missed what?"

"Never mind." I didn't want to get them any angrier at the Elves than they already were. Didn't matter. They got the meaning and it happened anyway.

That day stretched out badly and by that night, I was starting to wonder if this was what Legolas intended instead, to somehow leave me here. To die an old woman. I wasn't so good with these kinds of places, these enclosed shut up places, and the thought that he'd do that... it hurt. What was wrong with him? Sure, he didn't know me, but … _what was wrong with him_? My ring was gone, he'd taken the gift he'd give me, and he'd tried to kill me.

Tried to kill me.

I repeated those words multiple times, over and over, and yet it just … couldn't sink in. No. I just couldn't accept it yet. I wanted to, logically, I knew it would be easier... I remembered all the things my Legolas had told me, and yet it was so hard to connect the actions to the face. My instincts all begged for me to trust him, to love him, to open my arms to him.

But as I tried to sleep the next night, bothered by the pain of my shoulder, I suddenly saw the last moment we'd been together as clearly as if it was right now. Legolas had been dressing me, open love as he'd touched everything he could, but afterwards he'd been so unhappy.

He'd sat there, his words slow and broken up with his eyes off me, like he couldn't bear to see me and couldn't bear to say any of it.

_"Such a thing is rare and when I was young, Wenduin, it was seen as a punishment."_

_"A ____what__?"_

_"From those we worship. It was seen as something terrible- a ____curse__ even."_

A curse. Human and Elves being 'bonded' was a curse. There was no way he'd want to love that, even if his own instincts begged for it, not if he thought I'd somehow … done something to him. I sighed, probably not the first time, and shut my eyes as I rested my head on the wall.

What could I have done? Walk _around_ Mirkwood?

There was a horrible sense of time. It was almost a torture for nothing to happen, the darkness and torch-light as bad as Mirkwood's lack of light had been, and even the twins struggled. Pacing up and down, sore shoulder,drinking becoming an entertainment … and I ended up eating the food in small amounts just so I had something to do. It seemed as if they might never let us out again.

It was on the fourth day when they came. Voices outside made me jump, as I saw **Tauriel appear, striding past. It was the first guard we'd seen, and she only hesitated a moment, before she gestured to the doors.**

**"Take them to the open cells." She said quietly. "Carefully. They're still injured."**

**I blinked, shocked as I was more or less walked out, and with the escort of two Elves per one of us we were escorted out.**

**It was the strangest thing to be brought out into moving air, the sky above, the cells themselves a little worse than the others with just straw for a bed... but with air, I felt better somehow, and there was a natural light that the cells in the tunnels didn't have.**

**I ended up in a cell alone again, Fili and Kili further away than before, the others dotted around here and there- there were calls of relief as everyone was accounted for. Boromir in particular seemed loudest... but that could have been because of his worry. It was hard to tell where anyone was though, the echo moved around quite a bit, and some of us... like Boromir... seemed quite a distance away. **

**"You all right, woman?"**

**"Uh huh. Yes!" I called back, ignoring the Elf that strode past and stared at me, before I slid down to rest on a small four legged stool. Nice. We had stools this time! And air! And natural light! It was the Hilton of Mirkwood prison cells. "You?"**

**"I am fine." Boromir responded. "Where are you?"**

**"Don't know! Alone."**

**"We can see her." Kili called. "Don't worry."**

**"Watch out for her!" Boromir's voice echoed.**

**I groaned, snapped, "I can watch out for myself!" and wished I sounded more convincing. Seriously. Slumping down on the bed, I shut my eyes, and tried to rest. It was easier now, the darkness not so complete with the moonlight making it down the great cavern of cells, and soon the sound of snoring echoed around as well. No one knew why we'd been moved together... but no one argued against it either. **

**I got some idea just a few hours later though, when they came for me, and walked me past the Dwarves. Literally. Past them all. That made them all angry, and it occurred to me that perhaps the King had ordered this to get them all worked up, because... hadn't he wanted something from Thorin? Thorin had come to the door as I was walked past, eyes seeking mine, his hands tensing on the bars of the cage.**

**"Stay strong..." He said quietly. **

**Legolas waited in a small room, another cell with only a stool in it, torchers flickering in the darkness and sending his silvery hair aglow every time he paced past them. He was not calm, nor quiet, there was a strange restless agitation to every step.**

** When we saw one another, his eyes in mine, I struggled too, struggled with the way making eye contact with him made me love him, want to touch him, want to grasp his hands... and yet it was clear on his side that it made him feel only revulsion.**

**He gestured for the others leave, once I was seated, and for a long time we sat alone in that tiny room in silence, tension thick in the air. **

**Legolas stared at me. I was still bound, ropes having been tied around my wrists as we walked, and the room was only lit by candles. I felt sick sudden, aware that his eyes kept going to where the arrow had once been, his hand on the knife from time to time as he circled around me. **

**"Where did you get this?" Legolas held up the necklace, slow, and bent down. **

**"That... was..." I hesitated. How could I explain it? "A gift. It was a gift."**

**The strike was so unexpected, so sudden, that I nearly fell sideways as a hand met the side of my face. **

**I hadn't expected it, nor could I have dreamed of it, but the physical violence... however lacking in strength... struck home the sheer level of hatred Legolas had for me at this moment. The bond didn't provoke love, or affection, it did the exact opposite. I managed to prevent myself from falling but the real damage was done, my heart crumbling, for the one I'd known wouldn't have even considered striking me.**

**This one was so young, so angry, and I... I didn't know him. Dampness welled up, partly from hurt, but also from anger. I wanted to strike the Elf right back. **

**He stood up, almost satisfied by the strike, the strange cruelty written across his face as he saw the first trace of tears stinging my eyes. **

**"What is wrong with you?" I hissed, trying to sit up straight. "I told you. It was a gift."**

**When he hit me again it was just as unexpected as it had been the first time, and this time it was harder, knocking me to the ground as Legolas moved out of the way quickly.**

**"Hey!" I groaned, trying to sit up, and my chin was grabbed as he shoved something in my face.**

**Two leaves. Two leaf pendants, identical almost, and Legolas drew them before I could really see either clear enough to see which was mine.**

**"This was my mothers." He hissed, voice low, anger in his voice. "I was not told there was a second, nor should there be, and yet here it is. What is it, what magic have you done to do these things? What we have... it is … it is ****_wrong_****. My father ****_can not know_****."**

**Legolas scowled, dropping me down, and stood up straightening. He shut his eyes a moment. "I … you have a hold on me, and it must be stopped. I do not know why I feel these things."**

**"Well, tough." I snapped, cringing as I felt a boot suddenly connect with my side, increasing the pain once again. With a gasp, I curled up, shutting my eyes. Right. Yes. I'd dream, go home, and it'd all be good. Yeah. **

**I didn't know what to do, what to say, and I had the horrible feeling that somehow I was not helping my future self. The one he'd meet eventually and want. I just didn't know what to say, didn't know how to respond, and when I felt the boot again, it hurt emotionally more than it did physically. Really... all he was really doing was tapping me... but it was bad enough. **

**"What are you?"**

**"Me. A woman." I insisted, cringing, and shut my eyes. "Legolas, I'm ..."**

**"You do not even have hair, and you claim to be a ****_woman_****."**

"What, you want proof of that?" Oh shesh, THAT bothered him too? I groaned as he grasped the short strands of my hair, hoisting me up slowly, which hurt like hell. Legolas grasped my arm with his other hand and dragged me back up into the chair.

"End the hold on me and I will forgive you." It was soft... but it was a threat. It made my blood run cold. "I can not end your life, creature, and end the bond... but I can convince you to release it."

"I can't do that."

"You must!" Legolas voice raised, sharp, and he seemed equally as startled by it as I was. He clenched his fists a moment, a leaf pendant in either hand, and quickly he released them as he slid them down. "I will not accept it. Father will have you killed. I am being kind, human, by... by offering you a chance."

"Then don't!" I responded quietly. It still hurt, every word, the wish... that he would. That he'd accept it all. "Just pretend it isn't there and let us go."

Legolas hesitated as our eyes met, a pause between us, and for a moment... for a moment I wondered if he was starting to wonder if I really did have no control. If maybe he'd agree.

Then the others came.

"King Thranduil bids us take over the questioning." The darker haired of the two said, sharply, and shot me one of those cold looks.

Wait... King Thranduil? He … he knew about it?

Legolas paused, leaning against the wall, his grasp on the two pendants tightening. For a moment he seemed to hesitate, even soften, as if there was a part of him that resisted the idea of that. He didn't seem to know what to say. "My father does?"

"The Dwarves refuse to speak- perhaps the human woman will."

That did not please Legolas, his mouth opened a moment, a moment in which... I thought... maybe he might say no... but he just nodded stiffly. He glanced at me, another pause as we made eye contact, before he tore his eyes away, turned his back on me, and left me to them.

He must have known what they meant, must have known what was in store for me, and as the next number of hours continued... mostly about the bond with Legolas but also about Thorin... it was the anger that kept me refusing to speak.

They tried though.

I couldn't' say I'd ever been treated that way, not even by Orc, but for the next several hours … it was not pleasant. That was putting it lightly. They started off with plain questions, followed by strikes that were considerably heavier than Legolas' strikes, and then they'd brought out blades.

Nothing was permanent, nothing deadly, it would all heal and probably wouldn't even scar... but they knew exactly how to cause pain with the slightest cut, with the pressure in the right point, and I … I was so exhausted, it was so hard to stay quiet.

Legolas knew what was in store for me, and yet he'd gone, and … after... I wasn't sure I could forgive him for that. After I'd used all my strength to stay quiet, at least on the verbal sense, I couldn't even walk as they took me back.

And, like before, they dragged me past all the Dwarves. It had exactly the effect they wanted.

"You know what the King wishes to hear..." They told Thorin, who growled, "... and we will keep asking until we get it."

It was Boromir who reacted worst, throwing himself at the bars, shouting, "Wait... wait... she's in my cell. Meant to be."

That caused the guards to hesitate, nearly dropping me, and I stumbled to stand as they glanced at one another.

"It's true!"

"That's right!"

Voices of confirmation echoed from the Dwarves, all around, and to my absolute disbelief they actually bought it. They turned and headed for his cage. The moment the door was open, Boromir dragged me in, and dragged the door shut himself

Boromir embraced me, hard, sinking to the ground as I leaned and shook against him, all the strength seeming to sap from him. Somehow I ended up half in his lap, though he didn't seem to mind, and for a long time I was held there with my head in his neck.

He shook as well, hands gentle, one seeking every bruise, cut and spot that was sore, the other holding me as close as he could manage. His fingers shook, his breath haggard when he found something else, the grief and rage heavy in the air from both of us.

"I ..." He inhaled, sharp, adding, "Stay still a moment. I will break out and find that Elf."

"Shut it." I spoke, voice shaking, aware of how angry he was. "I … I'm angry... too..."

I was. Fucking hell,I was furious, and heartbroken, and angry, and I didn't know... didn't know how to cope. The only thing that worked was crying, angry furious humiliated tears, and being held made it better …at least for the moment. Fuck. Legolas must have known what they were up to.

And just as I thought that, just as I heard it, he appeared.

"What's she doing in there?"

Legolas made us both freeze, his voice sharp, and strangely tense. The door had swung open and he stared at the two of us, fury and … something else there. It was almost akin to jealousy, and he grasped my arm, dragging me to my feet, the other Elves quick to push Boromir back.

"Coward..." Boromir shouted, struggling, "That's... that's your own woman..."

"No, _that_ is a mistake." Legolas responded, dragging me up the stairs, eyes refusing to look at me even a moment. But there was a hesitation as he pushed me into the cell, his hand a little gentler, adding, "As was the heavy handedness of your questioning. I will be there next time."

"Don't bother, jerk..." I responded, voice shaking, still overwhelmed with the pain and anger. "You're... you're the sick one..."

Legolas turned his back on me, vanishing up the stairs, and I sunk to my knees alone in my own cell.

He'd been jealous. Whatever anger, resentment and denial he had... it was there, as much as it was for me, that impossible sense of needing that came with … whatever the fuck this thing was. Maybe he hadn't intended for it to go so far. I didn't know.

It took a moment or two to realise that Boromir was shouting, angry, and that he was being taken away.

"Boromir..." I saw red, suddenly, at the idea that they'd torture him worse than me... and as I rose to my feet I yelled, "You're _all_ sick! All you Elves! No wonder why the other Elves just left you all here to rot in your rotting forest... you're all as sick as Mirkwood!"

I sunk down, exhausted from the torment of their 'questioning'... although the pain had already faded into an internal pain now... letting the Dwarves continue my rant for me. For the first time I started to realise... I could never bring my own child here. Not if this was what Legolas' kin were like. I briefly saw that Elf Lady with Kili, suddenly filled with hurt and envy, wishing like hell that … that I'd get that. Interested Elf sneaking trips to prison.

No luck.

I got no more than a few hours before King Thranduil himself sent for me, once again, and once again I was more or less dragged upstairs past everyone. Exhausted, I could barely do much more than follow, dread filling me at what might be to come next.

* * *

A/N Because I might be going camping... here's another quickie :)

Sort of.


	18. Captive

The eyes caught me first, hard eyes, betraying the thousands of years that this Elf had seen. It made me stagger, although not as it had with Legolas, because as much as I hated to admit it... there really was a power to this Elf that went beyond his ego. He was almost glowing, the light of the sun arching down from a skylight unseen, the silver hair and pale moss-green robes glistening as he raised one hand to gesture to the guards.

They were gone, silent, leaving the two of us alone.

"_Ma istanyel_?"

It took me a moment for my brain to translate from Elvish to English, as I wasn't nearly fluent yet, and yet he remained nearly perfectly still.

He repeated it in common, "Do I know you?" just as I translated mentally, the question not expected at all.

The question surprised me.

"No." I responded, a little confused by the question. "Um. No."

"No?" King Thranduil questioned, as he crossed the space between us, his feet silent on the square wooden tiles. There was a kind of staring contest going on, I realised, because we hadn't stopped staring at one another.

It wasn't something I was willing to continue. He intimidated me a lot, though he showed no outward aggression, and instead I turned to look away. Admired the room instead. With the sunlight coming in from some unseen skylight, the room glowed as much as the Elf who stood in it, the stone of the walls a soft white with arches carved in for bookshelves, wooden furniture covered in soft cloth and cushions between shelves, both books and scrolls piled neatly on tables or on shelves. Candles sat, half melted but unburning, and there was a view of all the tunnels that lay below his library- where torches burnt and sunlight penetrated the darkness.

"Is it not beautiful?" He asked, voice soft, and when I looked back I was shocked to find he was _right there_.

"Um." I hesitated, all the strength seeping out my feet at the close contact, and nodded faintly. "Sure." The urge to say Lord Elrond's one was better rose... but I didn't say it. "It's very nice."

A hand grasped my chin, gentle, and turned me towards him. He was taller than I was, but even if he had been shorter the effect of such close contact would have been no better. I felt invaded, invaded by his touch, by his eyes, and after a few seconds of being stared at from such close proximity...

I shoved him backwards, not intending to be violent, but I may have as well slapped him.

For the first time I saw the flicker of anger in the Elf King's face.

"You would touch a King uninvited?" His voice had taken on a dangerous edge.

I hadn't considered what a 'King' really meant, not really, or how I should behave, but when guards appeared I had to admit I was mentally trying to calm myself down.

King Thranduil gestured to them to leave again, the anger fading from his face, back to that neutral face. He was not like the young Legolas. He had nearly perfected hiding his emotions.

"What do you want?" I wasn't good at hiding my emotions. I was nervous, on edge, jittery from being woken, and twice as jittery again for the 'questioning' which I could still feel under my fingernails, between my toes, and other sensitive places they had cut.

"Would you leave?" King Thranduil moved away for the books, shutting and sorting his table, his attention on me as he shuffled his table.

"Leave?"

"Yes. Leave." He turned to me, shutting a book, and gazed evenly at me. "If you leave Mirkwood and never return I will, in turn, forget you."

"Without the Dwarves?"

"Yes." He agreed. "Today."

I frowned, anger rising again. "I am in their Company."

"That is of no concern to me."

"_Avon_." I responded, sharply, the Elvish word catching his attention. It literally translated to 'I won't. I'd heard Cele say it more than his fair share when he was a toddler.

"So you do understand the words." King Thranduil's face darkened. "They should not be spoken by a lowly creature such as you. My offer, woman, is there. You may change your mind should you be forced to wait a year, ten, fifty. Would you not save your self time and leave now?

I supposed it was rare for a human to know words. I crossed my arms, indignant, as the threat of long imprisonment did not go down well with me. Turning my back on him, which I HOPED would be rude, I responded sharply, "I'm with the Dwarves."

"Then you may die here."

"Fine."

A hand grasped me, turning me around sudden, as he forced me to look at him. There were those horrible eyes again, mezmorizing, boring into me, urging me to speak.

Elves. Elven magic. Good god. I hated it when they tried that. This time I really did strike him hard, if only to cut the eye contact, and this time he was expecting it- his other hand grasped my other wrist.

"Stop that." I snapped, as he leaned close, staring me down.

"Strike a King once, you may be forgiven for not knowing it is him, but strike him a second time..."

"And I'd be celebrated." I retorted. Yeah. I was done trying to be polite.

"The Dwarves may very well give you one." King Thranduil agreed, voice soft, and there was for a moment a faint smile. "You may be a corpse by then, rotted into the stone of Mirkwood, but I am sure the gold they bestow on you for such bravery would gleam only the brighter on your bones..."

I didn't answer that. I had this feeling that could be possible, given this Elf, and pursed my lips as he released my wrists and let them drop.

"I didn't want any of their gold." I responded, ignoring him as he slowly strode around the room, the image of a peacock rising to my mind. Shesh. Pretty peacock had pretty feathers.

"I'm surprised." King Thranduil said, pausing a moment as the words sunk in, before continuing. "You have taken something from me. _Stolen_ _something_ which I am certain they would pay you great sums to do. But how?"

He reappeared in front of me, searching me, staring me down. "How can you take my son when you are nothing more than a human?"

"I haven't taken him anywhere."

King Thranduil's face snapped, from light to dark, and I was suddenly against a wall, his fingers digging into my throat, my feet barely touching the ground. His face was ugly with anger. "Do not lie to me, Wenduin, for I have seen all that you threaten to do. I saw it the day I first held my son, saw you, a woman with hair short as a man, leading him astray. _I will not allow it_."

"I … have not..." I insisted, between gasping for air, my fingers clawing at his hands as I tried to peel them from my neck.

"I will _not_ loose my son." He whispered, his voice dark, nails in my neck, "And all the pain you suffered at the hands of my subjects, Wenduin, is nothing compared to the pain you will suffer if he takes but _one step_ out of Mirkwood without my command. I will hunt you down, I will ensure you are no longer able to walk away, and you will regret every moment that you breathe- and you will be alive as long as I choose to keep you alive."

Holy cow.

I wanted to pee myself. They were just words... but every word he meant, I could feel it, King Thranduil genuinely meant it. Only... I had no say in it.

There would be a point where Legolas would leave.

"I didn't come here for that..." My words were broken, rasping through gasps for air, his fingers tightening until I could no longer speak nor breathe.

"Do not lie to me." King Thranduil's voice rose in anger.

He only dropped me when I was sure I was about to pass out, my body falling heavily, jarring any sore spots.

King Thranduil moved away gracefully, his face once again wiped of his anger, but now I wasn't fooled. There was a gentleness to his voice again. "You know my offer, Wenduin, and I would advise you take it. Leave Mirkwood, leave my son, and I will forget you. You are merely a moment to me, the shadow of a life that will die soon, and you will find it in your best interests... as well as those of whom you love and travel with... to not make any greater an impression on me."

I was still trying to breathe as the guards returned, summoned by a quick word, and more or less marched downstairs back to my cell. I passed Tauriel, her eyes snapping up, first to my neck and then to my face, but she didn't say a word.

Thankfully, no one came for me that night, I was finally left to rest. I used the water to sooth the swollen muscles around my throat on Ori's suggestion, who'd seen it as I passed by. It wasn't as cold as it could be but it worked. Breathing grew more comfortable.

If King Thranduil had wanted to suffocate me he would have. This, and the pain of the questioning earlier, were just … reminders. I couldn't sleep, move, eat, drink or breathe without being reminded of his offer.

Boromir was returned not long after I was. This time he was with me, which surprised us both, and while he did his best to pretend he was fine... I could see they'd been quite a bit harder on him.

"I was offered an opportunity to leave." He muttered darkly. "Or to convince you to."

"Didn't take it?"

He shook his head, cringing as he lowered himself down onto the ground, clearly sore.

That … did not help my own anger. But it also made me wonder if I was doing the right thing. What if I, by being stubborn and staying with the Dwarves, was risking Boromir?

"You all right?" I asked quietly. "You can lie on my bed."

"You rest there for now. I will rest there when you have woken." Boromir shook his head. He added, voice softening, "I will keep watch. I can not sleep."

"You sure?"

"It is impossible for me to sleep at the moment." He responded. Boromir did seem jittery, now that I looked at him in the darkness, he didn't seem able to sit still, and every time we heard feet, he was searching for the person.

"You want to talk about it?" I asked quietly. When he shook his head, I accepted it, trusting that he'd at least know I was there. "Okay."

"You know enough." Boromir responded quietly. I felt a hand reach out for mine, patting it, adding, "I am not bad, Wendy, I promise. I am angry. It's hard to sleep when I'm angry."

"Fine. Okay." I supposed I understood that. It was a good thing it was too dark for him to see any potential bruising around my neck... it'd just make him worse.

Why was he in here with me anyway? Was King Thranduil reminding me of who I had to protect? Or was this something else?

The worst part was that I understood.

Oh, I was angry with him, I wanted to slap the Elf King silly.

But I understood.

If I had seen someone come into Cele's life in, say, twenty years and ...that was the last I saw of him... I might have felt a bit threatened as well. My boy was my whole world, and I was his sunshine, his big shiny 'she comes with icecream when my throat hurts' sunshine. That wasn't to say I'd go psychotic and threaten her (or his?) life with death... but on some level maybe I got it.

Legolas would leave. I didn't know if he'd ever return to Mirkwood after the War of the Ring. I didn't think he had, not in the past five years, and neither he nor Cele had ever said that they'd ever gone there.

Still, I was angry, and I wasn't going to feel much sympathy for him. Every parent had to face that their kid would one day leave them. Even Elves.

_Especially_ Elves.

No child wanted to spend thousands of years living with their parents.

I was angry for a long time before I fell asleep, as worked up as Boromir was, and when I woke he was fast asleep on the ground beside me.

With a groan, standing was very hard now, I slid up and covered him with a blanket. He shuffled into it, giving me a chance to slide a pillow under his head, and I went to sit back on the bed as he slept on.

It occurred to me later, as the Dwarves all woke up and began to speak to one another again about escape, that we were on our fifth day. Or was it sixth? And we hadn't heard a word about Bilbo.

That worried me. I sat there at the door, quiet, listening to the Dwarves and wondering about Bilbo. Tauriel had visited Kili again, silent, just a few minutes paused at his door as she was 'guarding' the prisoners... and Fili seemed to have noticed as well.

He didn't say a word though. He watched his twin with the Elf, quiet, not saying a word. I wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.

"Wendy!"

Thorin's call came from somewhere nearby. I came to the bars, seeing him only slightly, but that was enough. He called down, "Are you injured?"

"Nothing bad."

"Yes." Boromir cut in, pressing against one side as he came to the door, a gentle smack across the back of my head as he added, "She's got bruises all around her neck."

God. That got another reaction.

I suspected it was in part to do with my gender, which wasn't all that surprising, but still frustrated me a little.

"I'm fine." I responded, voice a little sharp, adding, "Don't fuss."

"You're one of us now." Bofur called.

"Aye!" Dwalin grunted. "They insult all of us..."

There was a collective agreement at that, the others nodding and agreeing, and I sighed. Shot Boromir a look. He didn't return it, he'd reached up to touch my throat, and I pushed his hand down.

"Focus." I muttered. "Where's Bilbo?"

"I do not know. I have wondered as well." Boromir agreed. "You talking- it must look worse than it is."

"It does. I'm more annoyed than sore." It was true. The bruises, cuts and sore throat were nothing compared to my anger at this situation.

"You should address the King as My Lord..."

The soft voice startled myself and Boromir. There she was, my 'rival', who I couldn't even begin to hate. Tauriel appeared at the door and ignored Boromir's scowl. Silently, she moved to my side, and reached through the bars to inspect my throat herself. Boromir grabbed for her hand, I knocked it away, shooting him another quick look.

"It's okay."

"She need not fear us." Tauriel reassured him. "Nor do any of you. You are guests..."

Boromir lifted my hand, sudden, and shoved the cut fingers in her face. "Do you always cut your guests hands?"

I yanked my hand free and shoved him back. Papercuts. Already healing. Tauriel seemed a little taken back by it though, her eyes going to my neck, frowning.

"I assure you- I have given no agreement to such treatment."

"I know." I backed away anyway, not wanting her touch either, but she grasped my tunic and pulled me back. "Hey..."

"I am considering what to give a human for such a thing. Give me a moment to look."

"You a healer?" Boromir muttered.

She nodded, faintly, and then shook her head. "We all must learn."

Tauriel wasn't thinking of healing though. She gazed at me, silent, seeking something in me. When I didn't seem to do anything... she hesitated, standing back, and straightened. "I'll find you something If the King has offered you something... consider it."

"Nope." I didn't need to think. "I'm staying with the Dwarves."

"That's our girl." Dwalin called, clearly close enough to hear, and I heard him thump his bars in apprechiaton. "She said she's with us."

"Think they offered them a chance to leave?" Bofur called.

"Wouldn't put it past these Elves- separate us one by one! Don't fall for their lies." Thorin called, nearly shouting, his voice echoing. I was sure his volume was _completely_ on purpose.

Boromir turned me towards him, gesturing for me to follow, and the two of us wandered back into the darker area of the cell. He spoke quietly, crossing his arms across his chest, attention half on the outside.

"If Bilbo does not show-"

"He will." I insisted quietly. "Somehow."

"If he does not," Boromir repeated, voice low and firm, and fixed me with a look, "You must seduce the elf."

"What!" I wanted to laugh but he looked so serious. "You're joking, right?"

"No."

Bloody hell. Seduce my own husband. Well, okay, future husband. I preferred the idea of avoiding him completely, honestly, this young Legolas wasn't exactly the Elf I loved. I crossed my arms, a stubbornness rising, as Boromir raised an eyebrow.

"Why not?" He bent down, grasping my arm, only to let go when he saw me cringe. "Sorry. But why?"

"They already think I did it." I responded, glancing out, half expecting an Elf to be there now. Glaring at me. The evil woman who made Elves … love. "All of it. Kili too. They suspect it to be a Dwarven plot, somehow, like I'm hired to steal their Prince _and_ their Captain..."

"Kili?"

"You hadn't noticed?" I was surprised. How was it not blindingly obvious to everyone? Boromir blinked at me. "Kili and Tauriel."

"The female elf?" Boromir's eyes widened and his voice raised in surprise.

"Sh." I covered his mouth with my hand. Even now I was never certain how much Elves could hear. A lot, basically, and we had to stay quiet. "Yes. They have it as well."

"Are you certain?" When I nodded, Boromir stood back, leaning on the wall, shaking his head. He glanced to the door as well as this news sunk in. "So that... is it."

"What is?"

"They asked me only about you." Boromir admitted. "I thought it strange."

"The entire situation's strange. It always has been." I responded. I sighed, shut my eyes, and leaned against the wall. I'd only started to really believe it was true, only started to get used to it, when this had all happened. But it always had been strange. Even I knew that. "Can't blame them for being suspicious."

"I can. I have seen you with that Elf, woman, in combat and in peace, and there is nothing more natural unless it be the sun setting, or the changing of seasons, for the two of you are sometimes as one." Boromir insisted. He grasped my head, turning me up to him, adding with a note of weary sadness, "It is all I could ask for in a woman. It is all I ever seek."

"As one with him _in combat_!" I had to laugh at that. God god. I was nothing like Legolas in combat. He was all leap, jump, defy gravity while managing to shoot an arrow through the eyeball of a orc a mile away... or something along those lines. "You've got to be kidding. We work well but we're not the same. We just figured out how to work together. He does his twinkle toe archer routine and I stand still and shoot things."

That made Boromir laugh, which made him cringe as his sore body shook, but at least he was starting to relax now. The traces of anger and frustration had started to fade. He nodded. "Yes- and that makes you both beautiful to watch. The slender Princeling Elf and the solid human woman, as strange and beautiful to see as if a golden deer and a brown bear fell in love."

_What_! I smacked him, regretted it as pain flared across his face, but he didn't seem to care. "I am not fat! Or a bear!"

"You always have been a little solid, little woman, and don't you deny it..." Boromir grinned down at me. "Why do you think the Dwarves feel so at peace with you? And you do have the hairness of a bear compared to that Elf of yours. Even with your hair cut."

Yeah. He was right. It still annoyed me."Well, you're... arrogant." I retorted.

I was engulfed in a big bear hug, Boromir's unshaven chin tickling as he squeezed me tight, and I hugged him back.

"Feel better?"

"I have had better fights with you..." He responded before adding, "Yes."

We grinned at each other, both tired and weary from it all, but it was still nice to be in the cell with someone that understood.

Later that day Elves brought the twice-daily meals down to everyone, figs, fruit, cheese, meats, all kinds of surprisingly good foods for a bunch of prisoners. No wine, thank god, just water and cold milk. And a small cup of crushed herbs.

"Kingsfoil?" I guessed, as Boromir held it up to sniff it suspiciously, but he just shook his head.

"No, but I imagine it is some form of medicine. In such a state I imagine it is for applying to a wound, rather than eating, for it is already mixed." He added darkly, "But do we trust it?"

"Honestly." I took the mixture and sniffed it. Kind of minty, sort of, and sort of gel-like. It looked safe enough to me. "They want us to give in. Not give us a fast way out."

Boromir was heading for the food when we both heard it.

It was first a small scratch from the side, a shuffle of something on stone, and as we turned to look, a pair of deeply sunken eyes peered up at us from the gloom. Shut in with us.

Bilbo.

He smiled, a tired smile, looking more pale and strung out than I remembered seeing him at any point. Holding one finger to his lips, he gestured to the food, and whispered, "Do you have any to spare?"

Boromir made him sit down while I seperated the food. Half for Bilbo, he really was looking pretty awful, and a quarter each for us. We had food twice a day. I stood watch at the cage door as Boromir sat with him.

"Have you not eaten?"

"A mouthful here and there." Bilbo responded, shrugged, adding, "I did not want to be discovered. I... have just been hiding."

With the help of the ring. We both knew that, of course, and I glanced back to meet Boromir's face. I was still a little worried about how that thing would affect him... but he seemed more in control now than he had for an hour during the War of the Ring. Maybe my suspicions had been right- that ring and the owner of it were both still fairly weak.

"Eat slowly, then, and make every mouthful count." Boromir insisted. "Drink first."

Bilbo didn't argue.

I returned my attention to the cavern that was the 'open air' prison, watching quietly as darkness fell above, bats beginning to rise from the darker depths and head for the open sky. Their cries echoed around the caves, as did the conversation passed from cell to cell amongst the Dwarves. Now that I was back at the door they were quick to include me.

The resulting sound was more than enough to hide the quieter conversation between Boromir and Bilbo. Boromir was, for lack of a better description, mothering him as he gently probed him for the layout of the city and the movements of guards. Typical. Feed him and plan escape routes.

"They seem really anxious about you, Wendy." Bilbo said quietly in my direction.

I turned my head, just a little, and asked softly, "Why?"

"They say the Dwarves have come to steal the treasure of the Elves with dark magic."

Unable to resist, I rolled my eyes, sighed, and crossed my arms over my chest. Steal the treasure of the Elves. That was of course Legolas, although I'd never begun to consider what he meant to this place, but I didn't say it. "Dark magic?"

"Why would they think that?"

"They're mistaken." I responded quietly. "I didn't intend on coming to this Elf Kingdom at all." Not for another ninty years. No... _A hundred_. When my baby was twenty years old and able to withstand his Grandfather's ego.

"We should have better planned Mirkwood." Boromir agreed softly. "Perhaps have … considered another way."

Which way though? I was _sure_ I remembered hearing that both directions were hundreds of miles. Ideally we would have gone another direction but I just couldn't see how that was even remotely possible.

Beorn was right though. These Elves were nothing like I remembered. They really were anxious creatures, suspicious, and although he had said they were 'good'... the honest truth was that I hadn't yet seen it.

Well, no. I had.

Legolas. Even Tauriel. They were both good at heart.

Still, I saw the way he'd left me alone with his father's guards, and I couldn't pretend I wasn't still hurting and angry. Or … or the shot. That was the worst of it. Legolas had really thought I was something terrible and evil. First chance at love and he'd wanted to kill it dead.

God.

"What is wrong wit hhim?" I mused quietly, more to myself than to the hobbit and man, sighing. I was more worried than hurt right now apparently. "Is he sick?"

"Everything seems sick." Bilbo said quietly. "Out there. I mean, they all look happy, those Elves. They sing, dance, eat, drink, hunt and spend their days doing all those things. But it's like they are …"

"In an enchantment?"

"Exactly. As if death will never touch them, nor war, and they have eternity to enjoy themselves." Bilbo agreed, nodding, and then shook his head. "Perhaps Hobbits look no better to the eyes of another race. I never considered it."

"Maybe we all do that." I responded quietly. "It's peaceful."

"Some grow old though." Boromir reminded us. "We do not get so much time."

"Really though... what is time?" I said quietly. I could see one of the guards now, gesturing to Bilbo to stay quiet a moment, watching the guard as the Dwarves continued to make an echoing raccet. "Sun goes up, sun goes down, and that's it. Go to a different world and it'll be different. Longer days, or shorter days, the years twice as long or not existing at all, and … Elves almost have decided to ignore time."

No one answered. I didn't expect them to. I just could feel it, understand it for a moment, the way for Elves time just stretched and stretched the less focus they put on it. They were on the slow lane, humans on the fast lane, and from time to time rarely one species would cross over. Go a little faster through their lives or a little slower. A lot slower.

Maybe, I realised, that was how they did it. Heard things no one else could. Saw things that no one else did. They didn't just have the ears and eyes for it... time flowed so slowly around them that everything was clearer. Easier to _see_. Easier to _read_.

It was shocking how obvious it all was to me. I suddenly wondered if I was already going mad.

I heard him in that moment of clarity, heard his soft feet, his breath, his _heart_, and I knew. Legolas was coming.

I turned to Bilbo quietly. "Ring. Put it on." He was so shocked, so taken back by my words, that for a moment he did nothing. I insisted, "Do it- someone is coming," and Bilbo was gone. Ring on. Vanished into whatever the hell it was that the ring did.

Boromir raised an eyebrow but after a few minutes, Legolas was there, and he understood as well. Two minutes had given me enough time to come out of my clarity, back to reality, but I remembered it all.

Holy hell.

Had I really heard Legolas' heartbeat when he was all the way up there? That was... weird.

He wasn't alone. Tauriel was with him, the two of them passing by without so much of a glance in my direction, but I could tell Legolas had his attention on me.

He turned slowly on the way back from his patrol and peered inside, frowning, clearly angry about what he'd found inside.

"Why is he in here?" Legolas queried, slow, his body tensing, quick to open the door.

"I put him in." Tauriel responded. "They are close."

This was not what Legolas wanted to hear. His nostrils flared, hand tightening on the bars, before he gestured to Tauriel. "Take him back to where he belongs."

Tauriel examined Legolas closely, his eyes avoiding hers, before she nodded and turned to take Boromir's arm. "Come."

Boromir shrugged and followed her.

"He's my friend."

"I did not ask you." Legolas responded sharply. He met my eyes only now, blue eyes seeking mine, but for a fleeting moment there was something else there as his eyes were unable to resist seeking more. They paused on my neck just a moment, causing him to take a step forward, and reach out to touch my throat. "Did your _friend_ do this?"

"No. Your Father did."

That made something rather interesting take place on his face. It was almost like it shut down, emotions hidden, eyes clouding over, his hand dropping. Legolas was suddenly masked, distant, disinterested. He stood back and shut the door with a sharp slam.

What was it about him and his father that did that? I didn't understand.

"You should not have come." He said, finally, and turned.

"_Gi melin_." It blurted out, so fast, so unexpected even to me, that even I was shocked by it.

I love you.

It was angry, frustrated, and yet somehow it was almost a plea.

How long had I waited to say that to Legolas since I'd left? How long had I missed him, dreamed of him, missed him? And yet here, with this jerk, it had just come out. It would have been easier to stop a sneeze. Maybe some part of me hoped that by saying it, saying what I'd been saying to him night after night when I'd been here alone without him, it might wake something up in him. An appeal to him, the one I loved, hoping that it might still be … might be apart of him. The words were almost automatic. I added, sharper, "I'm really upset with you."

Legolas didn't answer. He turned, heading up the stairs, and I didn't know if I'd made it worse or better.

It was Tauriel that forced him to stop his retreat. She was down with Kili again, having had to pass by him anyway, and he was teasing her. She couldn't seem to hide that some part of her was enjoying it. Legolas had frozen, staring down, pointedly ignoring me.

By the time she'd joined him, his mask was gone, replaced with an open anger and jealousy.

"_Why does the Dwarf stare at you, Tauriel_?" Legolas asked, quietly, catching Tauriel's arm with his hand. The Elvish was clear enough to me, sure, but the look on his face could have said more than the words.

Didn't he see it? How couldn't he see it?

"_Who can say_?" She responded, adding softly, "_He's quite tall for a Dwarf_." Tauriel seemed to remember herself, drawing herself away from his grip with a gentle tug, adding, "Don't you think?"

"_Taller than some. But no less ugly._" He called, anger flooding his face once again when he caught both myself and Kili staring, the anger on his face making him strangely ugly. I didn't understand it... what made this Legolas so … so... so different?

He shot Kili a dark look once again, his fingers tightening around the bow for a moment, and I wondered … if he'd want to shoot him. He'd done it to me. But instead, he turned, and head straight for my cell.

I was shocked by that, I was sure what I'd said would scare him off for decades, but Legolas seemed determined all of a sudden.

"Do not speak again." He ordered, voice low, ignoring the angry calls from the Dwarves as I was marched away. Legolas' grip was almost bruising as he roughly shoved me through passageways, so fast that I stumbled a few times, but held up by that same grip. Elves glanced our way, though they didn't dare say a word, surprise on their face.

Maybe his mood was starting to surprise everyone. Elves weren't usually so... so uncontrolled.

"What is wrong with you?" I hissed, as he took a torch from the wall and shoved me into a room . Legolas shut the door, rubbing my arm. "You could just ask me to follow instead of bruising my arm."

"Bruising..." Legolas turned. "Does your kind get injured so easily?"

"When you squeeze the blood out of our arms, sure." I snapped. Shutting my eyes a moment, I tried to swallow down my own anger, and then turned my attention to the new 'questioning' room. It was still dark and as Legolas moved around the room with the torch to light candles.

Well. This was new.

It was beautiful. More than just bare walls and a chair, oh no, this room had everything. Sculptures of that exquisite Elvish quality, tapestries, a long backless 'couch', chairs around a table, a great bookshelf covered in books, and beyond a gauzy curtain that halved the room into two seperate areas, a bed.

"This is-"

"A private place to talk." Legolas responded sharply as he saw my eyes on the bed. "Do not get ideas."

I had ideas, all right, only they weren't about the fun kinky things I could do with him. I wondered, suddenly, if he was still a virgin. Or had he and Tauriel... played...? This thought both bothered me, quite a lot actually, and amused me. I guessed I had a dark sense of humour.

Or maybe he was angry with me. Wanted to tell me off in a private place.

"Look. I'm sorry." I tried. "I... should have thought it through. What I said."

Legolas didn't answer.

Okay then. I'd have to try something a little more casual.

"Is this your room?" I asked quietly, taking a few steps towards the bookshelf, honestly drawn to the sight of the books. "Books in Mirkwood. Bet that's unusual. It has to be your room."

"What do you know of Mirkwood?" He responded, sliding the torch into a holder now that he had lit the candles, and turned on me.

"That Elves here don't usually read. That's not what you want me here for, is it?" I wasn't intending on teasing him about the bed, nor about sex, that hadn't been on my mind at all. ...well, it had, but the question wasn't about it. Legolas, however, had a reaction that was completely lust based.

"No. Not for what you are thinking." He flinched,as I turned to look at him, because I had caught him staring. Legolas turned fast, inhaling sharply, his own eyes shutting a moment as if he was trying to keep control of some desire he didn't want to show.

Maybe he had thought of it. Or maybe he'd only just realised what it meant to bring someone to your own chambers.

Poor Elf- I could read him as clearly as he could read those books.

God. I felt so old all of a sudden. I hadn't even left my twenties... and I was feeling older than an Elf who had hundreds of years behind him. I smiled, tension leaving me as he pointedly ignored me a moment.

Legolas strode past me to draw the curtain shut between the two parts of the room and turned back to me. He frowned. "What you are considering for us is unthinkable."

"Oh, is it?" I teased, shaking my head, because somehow humour right now was easier than hurt. Plus it would gloss over the fact that I'd confessed my love to him. He'd hurt me in so many ways and I still loved him, so damn much that I felt like every moment with this Legolas was breaking me up into angry hurt weakened fragments of myself. I couldn't deal with that at the moment, I'd cry or something, so I pushed it aside. "What books do you read?"

"Read?"

"I was wondering what books an Elf Prince would have. I can't read Elvish." I responded, trying to stay teasing, the urge to shout 'Why the hell did you let them hurt me!' at the back of my throat. Or, again, another confession.

Fuck. What had I done that for!

The thought of it sent pain through me again. The image of him turning and leaving me with his Father's ...whatever the hell those Elves were supposed to be.

"I read many things, as is expected of an Elf of my status." He turned me around, sudden, Legolass grasping my arm tightly, once again digging his fingers into the bruises.

He saw the look of pain in my face when he did that, surprise on his face at my reaction, and released my arm quickly. "Your kind really are delicate..."

"Shut up." I snapped. "I'm a little sore from the questioning. _Remember_? You were there when it started."

His face darkened a moment, before Legolas had wiped his face of emotion, as if he was trying to hide that from me. He wasn't doing a very good job. He'd get better at it. Something about it was upsetting him as well.

"I will be there next time." He repeated quieter. "You can speak to me of these things and I will speak to my Father. If you are honest, if you speak the truth, and remove this curse... I will vouch for you... I can urge him to be forgiving..."

Legolas slid his fingers up my arm, slowly, one hand grasping mine as he started to roll my sleeve up. Our skin barely made contact as his fingers ran up my arm, like he was afraid of hurting me all of a sudden, and yet it send shock waves throughout every part of my body.

He felt it too. I could see it, goosebumps rising up his arms, the way he inhaled sharply as his palm touched my bare arm, something in his body language betraying just what the simple touch was doing to him. The bond, or whatever it was, heightened everything...

But it was worse somehow today.

Was it because he had never really touched me before?

I wanted to slap him. Kiss him. Slap him. Maybe slap him twice.

"Don't touch me..." I warned, dislodging his hand, hating how the closeness was bringing down my resolve to be angry with his behaviour. "You shot me."

"Let me see." Legolas slid his hand across my collarbone for a moment, pushing fabric to one side to expose where the arrow had penetrated me. Almost sounding like a child, confused, he mused, "Why is it not healed?"

"Humans don't heal like Elves." I responded. It was going to be a while... And I was suddenly unsure how I'd draw my bow like this. "The muscles there are complicated. It takes a while to heal. Why did you try and kill me?"

"My home has many tricks for the mind. I believed you were another."

That didn't really explain it, and I went to tell him off, but Legolas suddenly fixed his eyes in mine as he added, "Goheno nin."

He was so close, bent over me, his fingers still teasing my collarbone, and … I couldn't do it. I wanted him to love me. I nodded, faint, agreeing. Forgive me? Sure. I'd forgive him every time. Till I got home... then we'd talk.

"Please, then, do something for me. Tauriel." He said, quietly, and the word cut out the pleasure straight away. I felt the pain in my chest replace the pleasure his touch had given, as Legolas' face softened at her name, his attention only half on the bruises on my arm. "End the magic on myself and Tauriel. Do not allow it to hurt us a moment longer,"

It was as if he'd thrown cold water over me.

It was about her. Tauriel. His Elf Lady, the one he was smitten with, and his desire to love her. He was seeking the bruises on my sleeve, pretending to be unaffected the skin contact, even though I could see flickers of arousal in his face... he'd stepped closer, his body brushing against mine, clearly fighting it.

"I can't, Legolas, I don't even really understand it." I insisted, yanking my arm out of his grip, ignoring his stare as he finally saw the bruises. "Stop staring. They're just bruises."

"I have not seen such persistant marks before." He admitted, quieter, and added, "I did not think your kind was so delicate. Not even the bruises have healed. You are the first human I have been allowed to meet..."

"_What_?" I exclaimed. "Haven't you seen a human before?"

"No. And all Elves heal quickly."

The sheltered... little... Princeling! Good god. Gimli had been closer to the truth than he'd realised. I was stunned at this, at the fact that he'd never seen a human, considering how skilled he was. "But you're... you attack spiders, and orcs, and god knows what else that lurks in Mirkwood..."

"That I do. Elves are skilled. We do not hunt alone. But my tasks do not lead me into the paths of the human traders. I have been instructed to avoid _all_ human women."

Maybe his father really did shelter him, protect him, make it hard for Legolas to see any kind of real injury. I was sure even Mirkwood Elves had horrible injuries and suffered pain, even bruising, so was Legolas being coddled by his father?

Was it because of me? Was his father trying to avoid the moment Legolas and I would meet?

Legolas continued, ignoring my surprise, "How can you not understand something you created?"

"I did not create it." I insisted, sharply, adding as my temper flared, "It was your bloody idea in the first place, Legolas, and I just went along with it."

"It was not-"

"It will be, apparently, and here I am screwing up futures and stuff... but I'm sick of you accusing me of being a witch. It's not a curse. It's just what it is." I snapped. I shoved him away as he reached for my other arm, slapping his hands away, adding, "Stop it. There's bruises all over. You can't stare at them."

"Why not?"

"Because you're a jerk."

Legolas probably didn't know what 'jerk' meant. He got the idea though. Frustrated, he turned his back, and strode off. "I do not want to touch you."

"Then _stop trying_." It was so childish. I sighed, shut my eyes a moment, and tried to remind myself that this was the Elf I did love. Would love. ...no, I did love him. I really did. I was so hurt, so angry with him, but I still loved him. That was what made this all so fucking horrible. "Legolas, I … I'm human, okay? I don't know how these bonds work, it's clearly an Elf thing, but I... I can't change it." I didn't know if I wanted to. No. I wanted to keep it. When I left this place he'd be waiting. The right Legolas would be waiting. I added, sharp, "And you better make up for all your bad mood when we meet again."

"Meet again?"

"My hair will be longer and I won't know you. I'll never have met you." I responded. I didn't know why I was saying any of this except that... I didn't want any of it to change. At all. I didn't want this Legolas to treat me badly, leave me to drown, or anything else. "Never mind. Someday you might understand."

I moved away, sighing again, and tried to focus as I escaped several feet away from his direction towards a tapestry. It was actually quite beautiful. There sat an Elf woman with golden hair, a little child in her lap, trees with silver leaves framing them.

A hand grasped mine, for a moment, and I was turned to face Legolas. He stared down at me, reaching up to touch my short hair, his brow furrowed. We were so _close_. My heart rate increased, breathing a little faster, his own body mirroring my reaction.

"What are you?"

He'd asked this question so many times.

"Wendy. I'm just Wendy."

"Why did you cut your hair off?" There it was again, that flicker of curiosity under his tense distrust, but the longer we were alone together, the harder it was for him to pretend he didn't want to know more.

"It doesn't matter," I responded, trying to not read too much into the lcose proximity, desperatly trying to control myself. With his height... all I could see were his lips, and I felt my tongue move of it own accord, the urge to kiss them rising. Fuck. I wanted to _bite_ them. How dare he... "Why did you leave me there to be hurt?"

"My Father ordered it." It was as if he really saw that as a good reason. Legolas insisted, "Why did you cut your hair off?"

"Because I thought my friend had died. It felt right." The more he stood there, the more I felt drugged, drugged with his smell, his breath, caught up in the way our emotions bounced between us... whatever I felt, he was feeling, and I was loosing the ability to know who was feeling what anger and what desire and what loneliness... and god, the _loneliness_ was the worst, that hole that made me want to cry...

"I have not seen hair so short." His voice had lowered as well, his hand tightening on my arm, a tremble in his fingers as his nostrils flared. Drugged. We were both drugged on this connection, caught up in it, drawn together. "You smell..."

"Bad?"

"No." Legolas shut his eyes. "Not bad. Your heart is a song..."

Fuck. I couldn't cope with this. I wanted it, I craved those lips, as well as the comfort that came with them. Even though I knew it was a bad idea... I leaned forward, going to kiss him and expecting violence. He leaned against me, sudden, his weight on me as we both found the wall near the tapestry, his hands grasping my arms tight. It was close, our lips nearly touching, before he seemed to realize what it was that we were about to do.

"No."

I was shoved down, Legolas breaking physical contact first, his body trembling from head to toe as he backed up from me. I sunk down onto the ground as he turned his back again, his face white, the emotions we shared briefly cut short.

It was his. He was _lonely_.

It was like I could see it, sudden, see those long years here. King Thranduil and his first child. King Thranduil, sheltering Legolas, refusing him friendship of the wrong kind, love of the wrong kind, and refusing him the right to leave without permission. Legolas had grown to get used to it, expect it, like a bird used to a cage... and that meant denying himself everything to live like his father. Denying himself any feelings for Tauriel.

He'd left me alone because his father said it had to happen. My own father was... not the best father in the world either. But I'd decided he was fucked up, I'd left that situation, and I refused to go back to that kind of place. I didn't need this!

I was was suddenly so angry, genuinely angry, and I backed up. I felt my lips, touching them, tasting him still there, trembling also as he slumped down in a chair. "Don't touch me again. You... you..." I didn't even know how to say it. How to say 'Grow balls'. I was stunned by his lack of independence. "How can you stand living like that?"

Legolas stared at me, blinking.

"How can you stand being _captive_?" The word seemed the only right word for it. Captive. I was suddenly so glad, so genuinely glad, that my baby _could_ have freedom.

"My duty is to here and my father." Legolas responded, but he was half gone, his body still turned away. "You cannot do this to me."

"Do what?"

"Put these ideas in my head. An Elf with a human. It is a _curse_."

"Maybe it always ends badly because that's what everyone thinks it should do." I retorted. ". I was trying to stand now, my legs shaking, totally turned on and lost between my anger and the memory of his isolation. God. How could anyone be so alone and still be so present? I didn't want to be around him anymore. He was stupid. I wanted to be childish and angry. "I want to go."

"Beren and Luthien." Leoglas ignored me as he spoke, half to himself, his fingers clenching a moment. "And others. They always suffer."

"They had a good ending." I responded, ignoring his sharp look, adding, " Beren and Luthien got to live another life together. A whole life. I don't want anything from you, or your Father, I just … I don't really get a say in it any more than you did. It seemed like a blessing to me till I came here."

"How do you know of them?"

"You _told me_."

"When?"

I didn't want to answer. I scowled, insisted, "I think I should go back. Talk to me in ninety years."

Legolas stared at me. No words, nothing, just an open stare. I noticed his own mouth was bruised, like mine, all swollon. Woops... He seemed self-concious all of a sudden as he caught me staring at his mouth, shifting on his chair, uncomfortable all over again.

"Sorry." I said quietly. I tried to let go of my anger and hurt. I really didn't want to make him uncomfortable. "So that's it. Okay? I promise. I'll leave. You have time to think."

"Ninety years?"

"I'm not telling you everything." I responded. "I just... don't let me drown. We'll meet again, you'll understand," God I hoped he would, "- and that's why I can't do a thing about this bond thing, because you're the one who told me about it, and it was just as surprising for me as it is for you! It took me a long time just to accept it was really there."

"You did not create it?"

"No." I added, "I can't make you dream of me either."

"Those dreams-" There was something on his face, sudden, as if Legolas had just realised something. His eyes widened. "They were of _you_?"

"Sorry to disappoint."

"No, I dreamed of..."

I got it.

He thought he'd dreamed of Tauriel.

When we'd met, he'd told me he'd dreamed of me in water, which was half the reason he'd found me at all when I'd been half drowned in Rivendel. I supposed with wet hair, it'd be hard to tell much about the hair colour, and if he hadn't seen much of the face... if he'd WANTED or EXPECTED it to be an Elf... then Tauriel may have been logical. Quietly I asked, "You thought it was Tauriel?"

"She was found in water by my Father."

I sighed, shut my eyes a moment, and tried to ignore the green eyed monster. It had to go away. Nope. She wasn't a threat. I actually liked her. "When you found me-"

"You were in water."

"I was half drowning near Rivendel. You were going there for-" I couldn't continue, that haze cut in, mouth muddled as whatever it was stopped me. I didn't care. I would have stopped talking anyway. Legolas didn't seem to notice or care that I'd cut out. He'd stood, pacing, restless, struggling with it all. "I can't tell you. I don't want to. I think I should go back to my cell."

Before I talked more. God. This was really bad. We really had to get out of Mirkwood... and I had to somehow squash down that urge to try and kiss him again, bite him, smack him, and love the crap out of him.

There was a knock at the door, sudden, both of us jumping.

Legolas seemed to remember who and where I was, his face flushing with colour, and he dragged me to my feet, a hand over my mouth, calling, "I am coming."

"Your Father wishes to talk with you." The male voice outside ignored Legolas, apparently.

"Why?"

No answer. After a few moments he released my mouth, stepping back, his hands flexing slowly. "He is gone."

"Great." I muttered. "I can go now?"

"Yes." Legolas agreed, quiet, and gestured to me. "Follow."

As I was led back, we passed a great deal of golden and red lanturns being strung up, great feasts of food along groaning tables, candles glinting in the darkness, the sound of music already beginning.

"Party?"

"The Festival of Stars." Legolas responded. He glanced backwards to me, just a moment, adding, "I may bring you a taste of food."

"And the Dwarves."

"All prisoners will receive a taste. It is tradition." Legolas led me back down to the cell and pushed me in. It wasn't quite as rough as it had been coming out, his touch not so much gentle as it was hesitant to touch me at all, as if he was afraid too much touching would end up starting the close contact once again.

I didn't want it either. It was too confusing.

Once he was gone I slumped down.

"You all right, lass?"

"Did he hurt you?"

"I dealt with it." I called back, watching Legolas vanish up the long stone staircase, and sighed as I slumped against the cold metal bars. I hadn't. I'd dealt with it like a horny teenager. Maybe next time... I'd do better. Be more adult. Focused. Diplomatic. Maybe I had to talk to Balin for tips on all of that.

The songs from above were beautiful, echoing throughout the cavern, the stars bright where I could see them. Festival of Stars. The smells coming down, the sound of harps, flutes and voices were relaxing, and I wondered why that sounded so familiar. Was it Festival of Stars or Festival of Lights that was a yearly celebration in India?

I didn't know. I was too worked up to remember.

* * *

A/N

So I'm just going to quickly say I am trying to make sure it is NOT romance focused... :) I suppose there's going to be some tension though.


	19. Back with the boys v2

As I calmed down, bit by bit, I started to see it all fairly clearly. The second bit of clarity I'd had all day.

So Thranduil knew from the moment Legolas was born. Bloody Elves. Only he had no choice, did he? It'd happened. It would happen. I could feel a little sympathetic over some things, like not wanting his son to leave him, or not wanting to risk the lives of his kin against a dragon (although I still disagreed with it) but _love_? How DARE someone come along and love his boy. Me, Tauriel, I was sure we were both rejects for the Princeling.

Then again- I'd never really stopped to consider what the Prince aspect of Legolas' life meant. It hadn't come up and he hadn't suggested it might be important.

It was as I was mentally working these things over that I remembered Bilbo had been where when I'd left.

"You wandering around?" I asked quietly as I stood.

No answer from inside. Outside there came a voice, "I am..." and I saw Tauriel as she stepped silently in front of my door.

Oh. Didn't mean her.

We stared at each other for a long time. Finally, she asked softly, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you persist to love someone you cannot have?"

"Maybe I can have him." It sounded a little childish, that answer, but it was the best I could come up with. I shrugged. "Maybe not. I don't really get a say in who I love."

"Who is the one who decides such a thing?" Tauriel mused quietly. She came to stand right there, her hands closing around mine, and added, "I do not think you would have done this to any of us."

"I didn't." I insisted. My eyes were on her still but my attention was on our hands now, surprised at the contact, mostly because Elves did not usually initiate physical contact like this. I tried to refocus on the Elf instead of her hands. "My plans would have been different..."

I saw Tauriel's eyes go down towards the direction of Kili.

"There are some things we cannot plan." She agreed quietly. "Nor can we anticipate them. We are given but a glimpse, sometimes, a face in a dream or a voice that we recall after we awaken, but that is all."

"You saw Kili then."

That made her flinch, her eyes snapping to me, and her hands releasing mine.

For a moment I wondered if I'd gone too far, saying his name, making it clear that I knew.

But Tauriel seemed to relax as she searched my face.

"You approve of such a connection..." There was actual surprise there, as if she expected me to dislike it somehow, and Tauriel added, suddenly now a little lost for words, her face flustered, "I ..."

"You don't have to talk about it." I said quickly. She seemed relieved. "Sorry. I should have thought."

"How can you stand such a thing?" She asked quietly. "When you know all things like this only end in grief?"

"I don't stand it. I know that." I responded quietly. "I don't think about it."

If Tauriel was expecting an answer that was not it. She might have been expecting wisdom, maybe, or some profound answer. Nope. The best answer I had was denial. But it was her that was profound as she answered, "Then you choose to take the happiness and accept the fate that follows?"

"I guess so." I agreed, shrugging, and gazed past her in the darkness to where Legolas might be. The songs and music tonight were beautiful. "Plenty of times to be sad in life, isn't there? What's so wrong about being happy when we can be?"

Tauriel didn't answer. Her eyes stayed in mine, her hands closing around mine again, once again that strange bond returning between us. It was … was a little like how I felt with the Lady Galadriel, as egotistical as that sounded... this sense of trust.

I didn't know the Elf Lady. I was jealous of every moment she'd had with Legolas. Yet somehow I trusted her as much as I trusted Legolas, Lady Galadriel, and Boromir.

"I should be jealous of you!" I exclaimed. "Why are you so hard to dislike!"

That made her laugh, her body relaxing, honest amusement in her face. Tauriel responded, "Not once in the hundreds of years we've shared has Legolas been ready to pledge himself. I am someone he loves but... I knew it was not him. Perhaps he knew it was not me."

"Pledge..."

"Sometimes Elves may pledge friendship and love to one another in absence of that soul that is bonded to them- for friendship and love can sometimes make for a strong partnership and happy home for a child." She responded. Her hands squeezed mine. "But not when their mate has come."

Once again her eyes went to the cell Kili was in, her smile fading a moment, adding quietly, "For when they come- every instinct calls us to them."

"No kidding." I agreed. God. Here I was, totally on the Dwarves side in all of this, and I just wanted to see the blonde Prince again. I rested my forehead on the bars and sighed as I urged myself to 'man up' and focus. If I saw him again, I'd lunge at him again, and the image of Legolas tied to his own bed as I teased him...

God. I wasn't manning up. I was once again a teenage boy. For the ...it felt like the millionth time this day... I sighed.

Soft laughter near me made me glance up. Tauriel shook her head.

"I do not know why I am not jealous of you either." Tauriel confessed softly. "You are a human woman, an invader to my home and the stealer of my Prince, and yet … I will defend you."

"Why? Why don't we hate one another?" I muttered.

"Because there are some things we do not have any say in. There are greater minds, greater hearts at work in the world, the source of light and love, and they decide." She'd gone a little spacy, her eyes off me now, but then she added, "I too do not understand it. Perhaps it is not ready to be understood."

There was motion above, both of us looking up, Tauriel backing up.

"I must return to my duties. Would you like to be in with your friend?"

"Boromir?"

She nodded. When I nodded, Tauriel unlocked the door, and swung it open.

"Legolas will not be impressed." I warned her.

"_Legolas_ will be busy drinking and seeking wisdom in the stars." Tauriel answered. She gestured in front of her. Once I was in with Boromir, she shut the door, adding, "There may be food coming."

Tauriel moved away, just down one flight of stairs to where Kili was kept in the cell below us, ignoring the calls of the Dwarves as some of them insulted her. Like I expected... she paused outside Kili's cell once again. For a long time.

Boromir and I watched her, both of us quiet, and I suddenly became aware of someone else watching her.

Legolas.

I could _see_ him, although it was just the top of his head, aware of him more than visually getting a line of sight. Boromir hadn't noticed yet but when I gestured for him to stay quiet, he did, taking my order without argument.

Dwarf and Elf. Legolas must have known by now. How many times had such a pairing happened? I wouldn't have been surprised to hear this was the first... and although I had to admit I wasn't sure how it would physically happen... I liked it.

Boromir shifted closer to the edge of the cell, listening to Tauriel, his entire body tense. He gestured to me to come to the edge as well.

I came to the metal bars, sliding across against the stone as he tugged me sideways, his finger on his mouth. I really didn't want to eavesdrop on those two... but there was something in Boromir's face that made me feel like it was a good idea. A tension, his body like coiled wire, Boromir getting ready for action.

She was talking of that festival again. Something about memories, and starlight, and … this _was_ kind of familiar.

My jaw dropped.

Oh my god.

It was _tonight_. Bilbo's escape would be tonight.

"I have walked there sometimes. Beyond the forest and up into the night. I have seen the world fall away, and the white light forever fill the air..." She breathed, her voice so gentle... almost lyrical...

"I saw a fire moon once." Kili's soft voice answered hers. He was memorised with her, caught up in her as much as she was in him, the two of them lost in that connection that they had no control over.

I gazed up past them to Legolas. He was staring at them, completely unaware of myself or Boromir just a few metres away in the cell below him, and though I couldn't see his face with the light behind him, I could see his body. It was tense, his hands clenched, his gaze fixed on Tauriel.

He still fought it. He fought me, he fought Tauriel's bond with the Dwarf, and I … I couldn't say I blamed him. It would have been logical, easy, the right connection for him and the Capitan of Mirkwood's guards to pledge to one another. They would be good friends, perhaps even happy lovers, and their children would be strong full blooded Elves. His Father would prefer her to me.

Or maybe not. Maybe Thranduil had another Elven Lady planned for his son.

Boromir finally saw Legolas, his attention on her, and he gazed up silently to the Elf.

I backed up into the back of the cell where I couldn't be seen and rested down.

When Tauriel was gone, and Legolas too was gone, Boromir came to sit beside me.

"The Elves are not as I expected." Boromir confessed quietly. "All those warnings- but I still thought of them as if they were like the Elves of Rivendel or Lothlorien. Gentle, wise creatures, their hearts matching their beauty."

"I don't think they're bad." I admitted. "Just different. They're having a bad couple of centuries." I added. I felt a bit softer, a bit less annoyed, though nothing could soften the blows I'd received from Legolas since coming to Mirkwood. Oh god. Should have seen all this coming. He _had_ warned me. "They were probably like the Elves west of those mountains once. Loved the forest, tended to it, all that. I guess the forest and the Elves reflect one another- they went wild, and the forest did too."

"That does not excuse them, nor does it explain how evil the forest is now." Boromir muttered. "You still have the marks from these Elves."

"So do you." I reminded him. "I … I'm not happy. I'm on the Dwarves side. You know that. But didn't most of the evil things come from outside Mirkwood? It was invaded. I can't blame them for being weird and tense now and being suspicious of any new thing that enters the forest. Guess if I saw my home turn into an evil forest, after I loved it like I loved my baby, I'd be eyeballing everything like it's a new evil enemy too."

Boromir opened his mouth and shut it. He gazed out now, silent, and nodded. "Aye- If it was Minas Tirith..."

"It was once. Will be." I agreed quietly. I moved to the edge of the prison cell and gazed out. It was quite dark, a dusty smell to the air, but there was also that heavy earthy smell that old forest floors seemed to always have, that natural compost scent, and the air itself wasn't old or musky. There were even the occasional tiny moth fluttering the large drop in the middle around in the half-light from somewhere. Or maybe it was another bat. I couldn't tell. The Festival was loud, the echos drowning out the Dwarves chatter and snores, but it was late too.

I love you.

God. The words kept dancing through my head, on the tip of my tongue, and it bothered me. I wanted to say it. I wanted to see that face melt, that mask gone, see the answer in his eyes long before he returned the words to me. Sometimes he'd hug me, kiss me, a tender kiss that said it as well... but sometimes all we'd do was brush our arms, skin barely meeting skin, and yet it was as intimate as a long embrace.

I grasped the cold metal bar, gazing up, seeking him. He wasn't here anymore... but he wasn't far. Legolas was nearby. He might have even been listening to us.

Or maybe that was my imagination. What I hoped for.

"You all right?" Gloin asked. He was closest, right across the gap, and he gazed at me, shifting across, adding, "Your bruises fading?"

"Boromir told us you were bleeding." Ori appeared. "Is the arrow wound healing?"

"That's all stopped now. It'll all heal." I reassured them. "I've had worse."

"You let us know, lass. You're one of us." Balin called from higher up. "Right, Thorin?"

"Right."

"It's not a problem." I smiled faintly. "I can handle it."

"You're apart of the company now. We don't take insults of any kind from Elves lightly. They insult you- they insult all of us."

"Aye." 

"Agreed."

I wished it was that easy.

"We should all rest now." Boromir suggested, more to me than the others, but he nudged at me.

If Bilbo was doing it tonight... then Boromir was right.

"Who gets the bed?"

"We're friends. We can share it." Boromir responded.

It was a pretty small bed but it wasn't a bad idea. I wondered if Legolas was listening, if he was there, but there was no one coming to take me away. So I nodded, settling myself down, and was half amused when I found myself staring at a pair of feet. Boromir had decided to lie down the other direction.

"You better have washed these feet." I joked.

"The same to you!"

"My feet are _always_ clean." Bit of a lie. Actually they weren't. The laugh from Boromir made it worth it. We both had our boots on... it'd be fine. As long as we didn't kick each other in the head.

I tried to cheer myself up, what a story this would be for Cele! The first visit to Mirkwood. What a disaster. It might be the _last visit _as I couldn't very well see the King Thranduil welcoming me back with open arms … he might even cause trouble if he found out he had a grandson. Would have one.

Then again- I still felt a bit sad at the idea that Legolas would leave his Father and never return. Feeling upset about my treatment was one thing... taking away a person from their family was another.

I vowed to talk to Legolas about it one day. We had so little family left between us... none on my side, only his father on his, and although I disliked Thranduil … something about the separation still bothered me deep down inside.

Sleep wasn't so hard, not after all that had happened day after day, even with a pair of sweaty feet against the back of my head. I was just as startled as the others when we heard a call that had us both tumbling out of bed with excitement.

"Bilbo!"

"Wake up!"

"Get up!"

Boromir was up instantly, nearly knocking me onto the ground in his haste, Bilbo nearby. By then the group had been hushed, their excitement shushing into excited whispers, as Bilbo went for Thorin's cage with the keys. Thorin grasped the Hobbit, hugging him tight, shaking his head as a smile broke his face in two. It was a brief attention, he clapped Bilbo's hand before Bilbo scurried off for the next cage, Thorin gazing around.

"Keep watch for Guards." He ordered, voice heard clearly even in a whisper, and so as Bilbo and several of the other Dwarves split up to open up the cages, we kept watch.

Boromir tossed me a handful of food, taking some for himself, quickly eating and stuffing what he could in pockets.

"It'll be soaking!" I whispered.

"Eat the bread and store the fruit. Water will not harm that."

Fine. I did just that. Fruit in pockets. By then Dwalin was at our cage, unlocking it, whispering, "You two coming?"

"We're not _staying_." I responded softly. I wondered if there was a question... if they wondered if I'd stay for Legolas.

"Thought as much." Dwalin responded, and for a moment there was a smile, before he'd hurried back down the stairs.

Boromir pushed me ahead of him and we ran for it. No hesitation. The sooner I left this place the better. The Dwarves laughed, shaking their heads as we regrouped, grasping one another and slapping Bilbo's arms, shoulders, head.

Then they were heading upstairs.

Bilbo hissed, "No, not that way!"

"Why not?"

"I've seen a great deal of this place. Follow me down here." Bilbo gestured, took a few steps back towards the stairs down into the cavern's depths, and with only a moment's hesitation (and myself and Boromir going after Bilbo with no hesitation) the Dwarves turned and followed.

Down the stairs we ran as quietly as possible, the narrow staircases designed for fleet footed Elves with a nasty drop on one side, but that wasn't nearly as scary as the idea of being caught.

It wasn't a short distance, and boy did my heart rise everytime I thought I saw an Elf, but it seemed most of them were still up the top of the city. The further we went, the further away the music and laughter was, and when I gazed up to the sky I was sure that it was dawn out there.

Once we'd crossed a bridge and entered a small room, snoring filled the air, drunk Elves passed out on a table surrounded by bottles, flagons, barrels and spilt goblets.

"I don't believe it! We're in the cellars! You're supposed to be leading us out, not leading us further in!" Bofur exclaimed, voice rising a little, only to get shushed by Bilbo.

Boromir tensed at that, his eyes on the alcohol in the goblets, but the hands behind us gave us a gentle nudge from Dwarves. Even if he was tempted... there simply wasn't time for it.

Bilbo led us past the drunk Elves, a sight which I had to stop and taken in a moment, and down several steps. There, already in the water and tied up, were empty barrels. Small ones, big ones, most with some kind of lid and some opened still with the lids on the wooden platform on either side. They bobbed about, up and down, rope tying them together, the stench of alcohol, wheat, and other things drifting up from inside.

I had been expecting a bunch of barrels on their side like the movie for a dramatic drop. This river was actually fairly calm and peaceful, at least till it reached a drop some twenty metres away in the dark where I could hear a rushing waterfall, and the barrels more or less floated there easily held in place by a single small rope. There were others too, I realised, a great deal more lined up along the edge of the water.

Thorin smiled, shaking his head, exclaiming, "Gandalf was not wrong. You will make a fine burgler."

Bilbo flushed a little, smiling, but it was soon gone as he got a purposeful look and instructed us all with, "We must use the barrels to escape down the river."

"What!"

"We'll be bruised and dashed to pieces!"

"Drown!"

"Sink!" Bombur added. He had a ham under one arm. Stolen from the Elves? Probably.

The Dwarves at once protested, their whispers growing a little too loud, the snoring nearby turning into a snort which quietened everyone.

"Very well, then back into your cells comfortable and well fed, and think of something better." Bilbo retorted, his face falling, clearly disappointed that no one could see how great his idea was. "If I want to get the keys again, that is..."

"Enough. The Gate is shut by magic, there are guards all over, and with no weapons nor chance Bilbo is right to consider a quicker way out.." Thorin's sharp tone made everyone pause. He gestured to Balin. "They seem drunk, do they seem like waking?"

"I doubt they will wake for a good long time." Balin responded softly. "I had a smell of that wine they have consumed, as we all couldn't avoid doing, and such a wine would put even the Elf King himself into a drunken stupor if drunk in such large amounts."

"Then we have time." Thorin gestured to us all. "Balin and Ori, keep watch over the guard and the Elf cook asleep, and let us know when they show signs of waking. Bilbo, what is your plan?"

Bilbo, now his insulted frown gone, happily told us. "Now, we cannot use these barrels already shut, for I have tried. They are barrels full of wine and impossible to open. But those ones-" He gestured to the ones lined up on the platform, "-are easily opened and the Elves were tasked to put them in the water last night. There are around twenty that would be suitable."

"They drank wine instead."

"Exactly." Bilbo grinned. "So we can choose the barrels that will fit us, roll them into the water, and off we go. They will think they did the job, rush to let the barrels go before their late task is discovered, and it will be the Elves who assist us in our escape."

He was a clever Hobbit, really clever, and clearly pleased with himself, his thumbs in his half ruined velvet coat as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

Thorin nodded, stroking his chin a moment, and then he gestured. "Right. Big barrels for Boromir and Wendy, that is, if you are both still coming..."

"Why wouldn't we?"

"Your Husband has been attentive to you." Thorin responded. But he didn't seem to think I would stay, he'd already crossed to the larger barrels, opening them and searching them. "One was for butter and one for grain."

"Attentive! We've all seen the bruises." Gloin grumbled. "She's coming with us. Right, lass?"

"Yes, I'm coming." I agreed.

"As am I." Boromir added softly. "Let me be the one to move the barrels- her shoulder is not yet healed."

Thorin nodded. He gestured to myself, Ori, Bilbo Kili and Fili. "Then you will collect some food. Quietly."

"Food?"

"Knives too. Do not take risks- head for the larder and avoid the kitchen."

We nodded. Leaving the stronger Dwarves to their work, we snuck out with Bilbo, right past the completely drunken Elves. I doubted they'd have woken even if we'd have jumped around from the look of them... but who wanted to risk it?

We collected what we could, apples, cheese, bits of cured meats, aware that we couldn't actually take a lot in the barrels. It would be good for energy though and although we'd been fed, I suspected Bilbo had been too afraid to take much, so I made sure I encouraged him to eat some of the bread before we left.

The knives were all rejected. Kili and Fili thought them useless and we were too close to the passed out Elves to argue. They were left behind.

Once back at the barrels, all of them in the water now, Bilbo gestured for each of us to climb in. Even Thorin grumbled a little, and I couldn't blame him, it was uncomfortable and a little strange to do this. The sides of my barrel were still slippery and smelt of salted butter, some traces making my boots slip a little, while Boromir at least had the nicer smell of grain in his largest barrel. Food was quickly distributed around the barrels.

"Now, you all stay quiet, and don't make a sound." Bilbo said softly. "I will close off all the holes I find and make sure it all looks neat and finished. The lids will be closed-"

"How will we breathe!" Bofur whispered.

"_Quietly_, I would hope." Bilbo responded immediately.

"I'm already feeling a little stifled..." Balin muttered. "What about you?"

"I have ways of going unseen. That tale, however, is best left for another time." Bilbo responded. He patted his pockets and added, "Now, heads down, and mouths closed!"

Maybe he was enjoying ordering the Dwarves around. They did what he was told and, although the situation was tense, I swore I saw a twinkle in Bilbo's eye as he bent over my barrel to shut it up.

The lid came down. I slowly sank down, trying to find a way to be comfortable, the muffled sounds of Bilbo's soft shushing and hushing outside fading as several holes were stuffed with something. There was no way to be comfortable in a barrel, especially a slippery one, but with the weight of Dwarves and Boromir I at least wouldn't tip over.

I had really been expecting barrels on their sides, on some kind of trapdoor, and a crazy ride. I supposed we might get the crazy ride. However uncomfortable I was, however trapped and suffocated the barrel was, at least I could be grateful for it being closed in and waterpoof.

That probably made sense. Why send the bargeman a bunch of dented, bumped unhappy barrels that had sunk to the bottom? Most of them would be lost before they'd even reach him!

It was horrible in there though. I had to try and move, very slowly so I was quiet, trying to stretch cramping muscles and aching shoulder. The food we'd brought gave me a little distraction and I bent there, neck and shoulder and back aching as I stayed all twisted up, trying to focus my attention on eating rather than on lack of space.

Some of the Dwarves, I could tell, were having a hard time as well. There was the occasional grunt, wriggle and shuffle of barrels.

It wasn't long thankfully before the Elves arrived. I was expecting them to be searching for us, but apparently not, they were just looking for the guard and the cook. We heard them first when we heard laughter, loud laughter that echoed around, the barrels immediately going still as the occupants stopped fussing.

From here I could only hear fragments of the Elvish, something about drinking, teasing the drunk ones, and the drunk ones waking and protesting that they'd been so tired from working all night while everyone celebrated. It also seemed that _no one_ was buying that.

There was another round of drinks, apparently, before we were discovered.

Now I could hear it. I could feel it too, as a foot went to kick at the barrels, and as the Elves talked, my brain translated and created sentences out of what I did understand.

One of the Elves was complaining, "You've sent too many full barrels!"

"Quiet." Another voice grunted, pained, adding, "I did as I was ordered."

"But-"

"Release the barrels! Do as I say and let us go back to drinking."

"If you say! Be it on your head if you anger the Elf King by giving the humans his best wine and butters..."

Of course the conversation might have been a little different, as my brain couldn't translate all the Elvish, but the general gist was clearly correct as I felt something give way and our barrels start to move. Bump, bump, creak, groan, the water shifting them, and the Elves singing away as they kicked (or were they pushing us with something?) the barrels two or three at a time down into the faster water.

It was a little stomach churning as I ended up in the faster water, a sharp shove pushing me forward, the sound of the falling water ahead coming closer. There were little creaks and splatters of water from time to time, sort of, I could feel the dampness of water against my feet and hands... and I hoped like hell it would only be that much.

Suddenly there was a drop, far down, another barrel crashing into mine as we both fell underwater a moment. For a horrible second I was upside down, falling on my head and jarring my injured shoulder, and then somehow by some incredible stroke of luck the barrel righted itself again.

It was a very long trip under that lid.

All I could hear was the rushing of water, the barrel creaking in protest, or letting out sharp loud groans as it struck rock or the side of the river. Sometimes I seemed to move fast, sometimes slow, but I was never really sure of either- it may have been my brain tormenting itself.

From time to time another barrel struck mine, and it was such a relief if I heard a Dwarf in there complaining and muttering to themselves, but for a very long time I had to stay in that barrel alone. Suffocating. In the dark.

The river was not gentle. It was fast, crazy, rolling me about and tipping me upside down in some places. I ended up figuring out how to right myself but it was a pretty horrible thing and I was sure I was bleeding from my shoulder. Or was that water leaking into the barrel? Didn't want to know. Didn't want to find out.

Legolas, had he realised, or...

There were cries outside, sudden, and I stiffened as I heard the sound of Orc. Elves. Orc and Elves.

Were they chasing us? Or were …

There didn't seem to be any arrows attacking us. My heart was in my throat as I heard them though through the barrel, the water and the groaning, and the clanging of metal sharp and penetrating all other sounds from time to time. Was it the Orc Pack hunting Thorin? Elves wouldn't let them come anywhere near Mirkwood, especially unseen, but was _Legolas_ out there?

Somehow I managed to pry the lid up, just a tiny bit, unable to resist.

My question was answered immediately. There he was, balancing on the barrels, his bow in his hand as he shot Orc after Orc while perched up like some kind of twinkle toe fairy. He vanished, leaping up to the bank with the propelling of the river, only to reappear moments later as he barely missed my barrel and landed on one nearby.

The lid wasn't good, it was loose, and as he landed... it flipped clean off.

A very startled and blinded Dwalin popped up, just as Legolas leapt for another barrel, and then we were discovered. Legolas stared at the Dwarf, for a moment forgetting the Orc, but the Orcs did not hesitate.

"The Dwarves!" They shouted, ignoring the Elves now, charging for the water. "In the barrels!"

Within seconds all the barrels were being shot at. Startled Dwarves popped out, the Elves stunned, the fight coming to us. Legolas only paused a moment before he'd turned and saw me.

Yeah. I was probably very sexy right now. Butter matted in my scalp, wet, and bleeding. He stared a long time, or at least it seemed that way, right up till the Elf nearly got knocked off the barrel as Thorin popped it open.

Legolas leapt up, leaping onto Dwalin's scalp, suddenly a furious show of markmanship once again as he started to aim for the Orcs.

"Show off!" I muttered, missing half of it as my barrel spun, only to end up the right way and see that Legolas had managed to shoot two Orc at once.

Bloody Legolas.

"That still only counts as one!" I called, unable to resist a grin as I heard Boromir's laugh, and the grin nearly got Legolas tipped over as he looked my way and once again was staring. An arrow nearly got him, which scared the crap out of me, but he was off onto the bank, then onto one of the barrels that was apparently _not_ containing a Dwarf. (Or at least had one that couldn't open the top.)

I couldn't deny that I wasn't watching. But I was also watching the Orcs, trying to stay low as arrows rained down to the barrels, struggling to get deep enough and stay upright now that the barrel top had been lost to the water.

I nearly fell straight out of the barrel as we went over yet another sudden waterfall, nearly tipped over as I grabbed for the edges and hung on. By the time I had righted myself, Legolas was a distant figure standing there watching, the other Dwarves appearing one by one down that waterfall.

I was sure his eyes were on me. I stared back, my entire body shaking from adrenaline and shock from the cold water, my eyes fixed on him as long as the river allowed.

The Orcs stopped coming. The Elves stopped chasing. We could hear the Orc behind, shouting and carrying on as they charged after us on both sides of the river, but the river was so fast and we had gotten so far ahead now that we were gaining distance on them.

"We're out of the boundary of Mirkwood!" Thorin shouted, laughing, slapping his barrel. "We've made it! Well done, Master Baggins, well done!"

I saw poor Bilbo there, trembling as he clung to the barrels, trying to smile at his praise.

Trembling, I sunk as low down as I could manage and hung on. Boromir appeared nearby, his face pale but still full of energy, Bilbo near him as they clung to Ori's barrel. One by one, the barrels were reunited by the currents, and I grasped onto Balin's barrel with my good arm.

"Now what!" Dwalin called, his voice horse from shouting, and he stared for Bilbo. "The Orc will still come!"

"There... there is a bargeman!" Bilbo called, half spluttering on the river itself, trying to raise himself up. His little body was trembling in the cold water. "I heard … heard the Elves talk! … He collects ...barrels!"

"Good thinking!" Thorin called.

Balin agreed. "Clever burger, you're turning out to be."

"I planned... planned on having us all … stay in the barrels till we were there..." Bilbo gave up, spluttering, and clung to the side as he tried to stay above water.

That might have been a good idea. Boy was I glad for air, Orcs persuing us or not, so I didn't care so much.

"Are you all right, Kili?" Fili's worried voice caught our attention.

Kili just gestured, shrugging, teeth gritted somewhat. "It's nothing. It'll wait."

Nothing?

I turned to see a great big bloody arrow sticking out of his arm. He was the only one who'd ended up with an arrow and it looked awful, black pus seeping out already, Kili's face drawn with pain as he held onto his barrel with one arm only.

"I don't think it has much choice." Gloin muttered.

"Wendy will have to tend to it later." Thorin called. "Stay in the rapids, use your hands, we'll get some speed. You'll live, Kili."

We had to go quiet a moment, as the river grew stepper again, once again separated over waterfalls and through fast rapids, but the other end was faster still and the Orcs even further behind than before. I couldn't hear them now.

When we'd regathered, we re-grasped each others barrels, Boromir and Bilbo appearing with Gloin and Balin this time.

"It'll be some time before we find ourselves near any lake or barge." Thorin called from near the front. "The current will keep us moving- keep watchful for the Orc and for the Elves."

"At least we have plenty of water." Balin called. He and Boromir nearly tipped sideways, the Dwarf no where near the weight of Boromir, and Boromir's grasp on the barrel making it harder for it to balance. "Group up in two or three, stay close, we'll stay upright easier if we work together."

"I'll come to you, Wendy, so as not to tip Balin's barrel." Boromir called.

I nodded, sinking low, grasping for Boromir as he ended up at my barrel. He hung onto one side, my weight keeping us balanced, and we let the fast river carry us far away from the sickness of Mirkwood.


	20. Rollin down the river

The river didn't calm down much- it wasn't long before a second stream from deep inside the forest joined the first and increased the flow for a long time.

The sun grew hotter, higher up, the cold water uncomfortable but the warmth of the sun at least giving us a little comfort. Somehow Bilbo managed to flop himself on top of an empty barrel (we hoped) and lay there like a sad hairy fish for a while as we were whisked along from current to current.

It was only the trees started to thin, the forest lightening around us, and the first signs of grassy meadows that anyone spoke at all.

"May I offer everyone congratulations," Balin called, after some time, "At being the first to have escaped Mirkwood and to Bilbo, my sincere thanks for a job well done. We have now passed out of Mirkwood and into the lands beyond."

There was laughter, cheers, slapping of the water or barrels at that. Even I smiled faintly. We may have been. Who knew what kind of magic Mirkwood's prisons had to keep prisoners in. They hadn't anticipated a hobbit with a magic ring.

Bilbo reached out to me, his fingers trembling, offering something. "You were gone before I could give this to you."

My ring. I took it, suddenly paranoid I'd loose it in the water, but got it safely in my hand and clung to it against my chest. Oh my god. "I thought I'd lost it for good..."

"I got it before I followed." Bilbo responded, smiling, adding, "There's some things we never want to loose."

"No, we don't." I agreed. I clung to it a moment, eyes shutting, relief flooding me. It was just an object but … but it made me feel close to the Elf I loved again, reminded me of him, and the further away from Mirkwood the better. That young Legolas was … well, I wasn't sure what he was. But he wasn't someone familiar to me.

Not yet.

"How did you manage to go so long unseen?" Balin called.

"Well, that-" Bilbo was uncomfortable all of a sudden. But before either I or Boromir could speak out for him, he'd withdrawn something from his pocket, and held it up.

The gold ring glowed in the sunlight, capturing all of our attention, as he added, "I stole it from this creature called Gollum."

And with that, once the ring was safely away, he told us all about the riddles, the threats, and the way the ring could have him move unseen in any place. Only Boromir and I seemed tense, the others were laughing, enjoying the story, and Thorin exclaimed, "A lucky find!" as he shook his head.

No one tried to take it from him though. It was very clearly his to keep.

"Come in handy when we're in the Lonely Mountain." Balin commented lightly.

"Aye!"

They continued to talk, their energy back now that we had escaped, and Boromir and I clung to each others barrels as I wiped butter and water off my finger and slid the ring carefully back onto the right finger. I sighed, relief once again flooding me, and sunk down low in the barrel as I tried to relax.

"It won't slide off?"

"I hope not." I muttered. "I'll hunt it down myself."

Boromir sunk down as well, plucking grain out his hair, and rested his chin on his arm. With our barrels supporting one another it was a little easier to relax. My arm clung to one part, his on the other, and the Dwarves that had come out of the barrels just inches away as we bumped into one another. Bombur, Nori, Dori and Bifur were apparently still in a barrel somewhere- and we saw them close by, the barrels were low in the water and would occasionally have complains echo out from inside.

The barrels continued to groan and carry on but there seemed to be no problems, not really, the river deep and the rocks gone now. The current was always fast. Napping the day away was a bit pointless because we both had to keep grip on the barrels as the current banged and plonked them against each other from time to time. The sun was bright, so bright that our faces were starting to get a little sunburnt from reflections off the water, but perhaps because it was autumn (and I'd confirmed that by all the trees going all the shades of fall along the river) we weren't so badly off.

The scariest moments were when I wondered if we'd get wedged or lost on the edge of the river. It never happened. Thorin had somehow found a stick and anytime someone got close, a stick would be thrown to them, so they'd just shove themselves back into the currents.

Fish swam past, birds came to perch on barrels and observe us with curious looks, and sometimes I wondered if they were at all magical... I mean, who could blame me after all the weird and wonderful creatures I'd already met? Probably not- any creature would want to take a look this sight. Thirteen Dwarves, one hobbit and two humans soaking wet, trembling, faces going pink in the sunlight and throwing sticks about trying to stay in the fast currents.

The landscape changed more rapidly now that we were out of Mirkwood. Instead of a dark forest on either side of us there apparently was only swamp... or at least something like it... with areas of solid land. Reeds grew tall, the land sodden around us, which I had to admit I was relieved about as I suspected this would only slow the Orc Pack further.

"Bad swamp... good to keep them slow, right?" I commeted to Dwalin, who grunted, nodding.

"Many a traveller would think so before they are lost or drowned in it. Orcs will have no great joy crossing it."

I was pretty happy about being right. But whatever triumph in that was lost as finally we all saw what we'd come this way for in the first place.

That big pointy Mountain.

It was the first sighting of the Lonely Mountain that got everyone excited. Thorin went back into action mode, straight off, shouting for everyone to gather to him. It took a bit of trial and error, barrels bumping around, currents taking each of us away, but once we were close enough to hear each other Thorin called to the group.

"So-" Thorin called, when we had finally managed to regroup, "We have done well- still with a week to get to the Lonely Mountain."

"A week!" I exclaimed.

"Aye, a week and two days. Two days we will need to make sure we make it on time." Thorin answered.

"It seemed like longer in the cells." I said softly.

"We were in them for a week." Thorin called. "It did seem longer but I counted the time carefully."

Anxiety filled me somehow. I couldn't... tell why it bothered me so much. This didn't seem right.

"So what's the plan?" Balin called from further out of the barrels.

"We find this bargeman." Thorin answered. "We have him bring us into Lake Town. We will need supplies, food, safety, and it will not be found if we are hunted. Now though, separate, and find the fastest part of the currents... we must move faster! Two barrels together, stay close, move quickly!"

With that, each of us let go, barrels getting separated by some five to ten metres very fast as the strong river tugged us in all directions, Boromir making sure that we were together. The river was already turning another direction and the water grew faster again now, as if we were going downhill, which meant more effort once again to stay in the middle and stay together.

I was glad Boromir had decided to come across before we'd get separated. Something about this timing seemed off.

"Is it just me or does it seem like we're moving faster than in the movies?" I spoke over the river, trying to stay quiet, and was glad when Boromir clearly was the only one who heard me.

"No, you are not wrong, for I have noticed the same and have been a little worried about it." Boromir nodded, brow knitting together, crossing his arms. "It was at first just by a few hours, but then by a day, and now..."

"Two weeks till Durin's Day and we're already looking for the bargeman." I said quietly. The movies were the only 'guide' I had, and even I knew they weren't particularly great sources for a guide, but it worried me that things seemed so different somehow. "Is this something we should be worried about?"

"I would say so, yes." Boromir agreed quietly. "With the Orc Pack hunting Thorin- It may be of great concern."

The Orc Pack. Would it be hoping for too much to hope that the swamp would delay them for a week

"I don't like it." I gazed up sharply. Oh. River.

"Stick, Thorin Oakenshield!" Boromir called. Boromir's hand snatching up to catch the stick offered as we veered too close to the edge, and with me holding onto both of our barrels with both arms... something that really bloody effing hurt my shoulder... Boromir hoisted us back into the currents with several strong shoves on the stick.

"Thank you!" He called, tossing the stick back to Thorin, who tossed it straight away to Bofur and Ori who were in a similar situation on the other side of the river.

When we'd managed to adjust our grips on the slippery barrels I asked, "Now what?"

We had to pause the discussion a moment as the barrels thumped together particularly violently, Boromir grasping onto both as it jarred my shoulder, his concern obvious when he saw the pain on my face. Once it was over he grasped my shoulder and pushed the fabric aside.

"It is still-"

"Course it is." I responded, a little annoyed that he'd gotten distracted, insisting, "But what now? Do we spend a week in Lake Town? On the sides of the Mountain? Or is this how it's supposed to happen?"

"That I cannot answer..." Boromir admitted quietly. "It worries me. You must stop using that arm and I will bind it, so that it heals faster, and we can both be ready for whatever might come."

There wasn't much chance to talk after that though. We were separated by the river and I ended up with Kili and Fili- who refused to separate even after Thorin ordered us to remain in groups of two- who were trying to entertain each other by teasing Boromir.

It was strained, tired, Kili was clearly in some pain with that arrow. It hadn't been taken out yet. That bothered me... but the middle of a river was no place to deal with it. They were too entranced with the sight of the Lonely Mountain, the glimpses of it slowly becoming more often and better, and it was when the sun was sinking low in the west that finally the trees and landscape allowed us the first clear sign of the Mountain.

As the sun sunk down on the western horizon we finally saw a parting in the trees and the first sign of the Mountain.

It was gone as fast as it had come but the effect on Thorin and the Dwarves was incredible. They had seemed wilted and tired all day, soaking wet and exhausted, but now they were straight, faces alert, excitement rising at the sheer closeness of the Mountain. It may have been a day's walk. Even less than that, perhaps, half a day.

It was close.

As soon as the current slowed, the sides of the river finally smoothing out somewhat into shallow easy slopes, a net was spotted. Several of the other barrels had already been caught inside it.

Thorin had us wading out of the water, the barrels rolled to one side, and the last of the Dwarves released. They were the worst off, stressed, pale, Bombur having spent a lot of time completely upside down.

"Wendy..." Fili called, the moment I'd stumbled out of the slippery butter barrel, my boots slipping and sliding on the rocks as I tried to get up with grease covered sodden boots. He was struggling to get Kili out of the barrel.

Kili looked shocking. Absolutely shocking. He was trembling, his face drained of blood, struggling to climb out of the barrel and stand in the shallow water. Boromir was faster, almost picking up the Dwarf, he and Fili guiding him to the river bank despite Kili's protests that he was fine.

"We don't have time!"

"We'll have to make time." Balin said, firm but gentle, as he placed a hand on Thorin's shoulder. "We need to locate the bargeman."

Thorin went to argue but one look at Kili made him change his mind. He nodded, adding sharply, "Be quick about it, Wendy, for the Orcs will not be so far behind us."

I wasn't sure what to do, exactly, but I nodded anyway. Luckily Fili was so anxious about his twin that he was more or less directing it, myself and Boromir assisting him, and Boromir seemed to know quite a bit about it as well.

It was snapped off, yanked out, the two steps sounding far more straight forward than the actual reality. I almost felt bad for Kili that it hadn't been snapped off when he'd fallen into a barrel, as the movie had shown, because having to be wide awake and without pain meds as we tried to remove it hours later seemed far worse.

With a cloth I was the one getting pressure into it, while Boromir sought Kingsfoil again, but we just didn't have time for that. While we'd been trying to get Kili's wound cleared of arrow and pressure into it, the others had spread out, seeking the bargeman.

Well, they found him right after he found all of us, and the man was not impressed by what he saw.

Maybe it was the barrels, all damaged and dented and sad looking, or maybe it was that somehow we rubbed him the wrong way. There he was, bow readied, gazing down to all of us with open distrust.

"Lower that stick, Master Dwarf, if you wish to speak before I let loose an arrow into your throat for I am tired, hungry and in no mood for a spar." The man warned, arm tense and muscles clear to me that he was not fooling around.

"Wait, just a moment, good bargeman..." Balin called, hands out, making his way slowly up the slope. "We're no threat..."

"Seems to me you are the ones to blame for the delay and perhaps caught in attempting to steal as well..."

"No, not at all." Balin tried to reassure him.

Boromir had risen now too, wiping his hands on his clothing as he spoke quietly and carefully, "No, we are not thieves, and you must forgive us for using your barrels, but with the road overrun with Orc and Mirkwood having us lost, we foun a river, barrels, and took a chance."

"Aye, that is exactly how it was." Balin agreed. He shoot Boromir an apprechative glance at that.

"Dwarves, a man and two boys?" The bargeman glanced at me and Bilbo, dismissively, voice sharp...but at least he'd started to lower the bow. "You will forgive me if I am not convinced."

"These, this man and his friend, are our hired guards." Balin explained. "We are Dwarves from the Iron hills, simple merchants, escaped from danger on our way home to our families."

"Those of us not injured will assist you with these barrels if you would accept help." Boromir added, quickly, "For you said you were late and there must be those waiting for you at home."

"Fine." Finally the bargeman lowered his bow. He stood back, sliding arrow back into quivior and bow across his shoulder. "You assist me with these barrels and I will forgive you for the delay. I too have heard the dangers of the road- it is a lucky escape if your story is a truthful one."

Thorin had stayed back, letting Balin and Boromir speak, which I had to admit was the smartest thing I'd seen the dwarf do for a while. I glanced down to Kili and gently pressed my palm down into his leg, quickly binding it, remembering from somewhere to not cut the blood off... just put pressure there.

Kili gritted his teeth a moment, tried to smile, and muttered, "It will do. Fili, Wendy, let me stand."

It wouldn't. I'd have loved to do a hell of a lot more to fix it. I offered, "I could grab that stick..." but he shook his head and hoisted himself up.

Thorin approached us, on his way down the slope, voice low as he asked me, "Is it bad?"

I didn't want to say yes but I didn't want to lie. My sigh and my mutter of, "Well, I'd love to do more with it..." seemed to tell him enough.

"You and Kili keep watch for the Orc then." Thorin's eyes darted to my shoulder. I glanced down and blinked.

Oh, yeah. My own wound. It was looking pretty shocking as well. Blood had stained my tunic, most of it dark and dried out, but there seemed to be bright red dampness still seeking a way down the road.

"Kili." Thorin turned to Kili. "You stay with Wendy- keep watch. You know the land well and will know the right direction."

Kili nodded, standing slowly, doing his best to hide the way he was favoring his arm. "Aye."

Thorin headed down the slope after the others, rolling up his own sleeves, trudging into the water to assist with the collection of barrels from the netting set up to catch them.

I ended up standing there with Kili, geninuely keeping watch, Kili pointing me in the direction most likely to bring us a small horde of angry bloodlusting orcs. The Dwarves, along with Biblo and Boromir, assisted the man to roll barrels up the slope and down the other side to some place I couldn't see from this point, probably where the actual boat was. It was clearly hard work, even with the empty barrels, and by the time it was done the sun cast long shadows across the river.

"Won't want to stay out much longer." Kili said quietly. "They will move easier at night."

"So I've heard." I agreed. I'd pressed a wad of fabric against that wound of my own, caught between tunic and skin, and it had stopped the bleeding. Did nothing for the pain but... I wasn't in the mood to complain.

Balin gestured to us. Kili and I turned and followed him over the small hill.

I froze, just a moment, as I finally caught sight of what lay on other end. My jaw dropped because I had honestly never seen such a lake before Never.

It was large, this massive body of water that stretched from mountains to mountains, and then outto the horizons with only a hint here and there of land on the other side, and in the sheer still of late afternoon it acted as a mirror- everything in the sky was mirrored perfectly in the waters below. Long fluffy clouds, blue sinking into darker blue at one end, the sun casting a long stream of light across the entire lake.

I couldn't see one end of the lake, nor any sign of an end to the lake, and if it wasn't for the maps I'd seen of Middle Earth I might have wondered if this was connected to the ocean. The other side, however, had great mountains and waterfalls crashing down into the water so loud that I could swear I could hear it from here... even from this distance.

"Wow..." I exclaimed, honestly stunned, and Kili grinned.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He asked, voice soft and gentle, adding, "We are not far now."

"I wasn't expecting this." I admitted. "I've never seen such a big lake."

The wind blew, icy cold, cutting straight through. I wasn't expecting the cold either. It hadn't been all that bad in the river with the sheltering banks and the sun but here?

"We are in high country." Kili explained quietly. He started down the slope. "The lake- it never fully thaws over summer. Only the land thaws. The ice that remains usually creates a cool wind."

"Oh, great." I muttered and started down after him. There on the edge was a boat on a dock, more or less near where the river fell down into the lake in a gentler waterfall than the ones further away south, the boat rocking backwards and forwards gently. As we approached the Dwarves were already there, climbing out of the boat, the barrels lined up.

"-help was appreciated. Perhaps you were not lying." The man said, still clearly suspicious, as his eyes went to the damage of the barrels. There were still arrows sticking out of one or two. He went to untie his boat, in a clear hurry to leave, adding, "Good luc-"

"Wait a moment." Balin quickly shuffled forward. "Now, perhaps we could arrange something..."

"I see nothing you can arrange that'd be of interest to me. I am late and I have barrels to deliever."

"Can you take us to Laketown?" Thorin asked, gruff, weary sounding. "We are exhausted and we are in need of transport."

"No." The Bargeman responded. His eyes went to the barrels, the damage, the arrows, hoisting one out as he held it out. "This is an Elvish arrow. The Master of Laketown needs no reason for further arguments with the Elves- we can not afford to loose their trade. You were not just chased by Orcs, Master Dwarf, but by Elves also... I am no fool."

Silence fell at that. He was right of course. He was going to leave again, unlooping the rope and tossing it on his ship, but Balin wouldn't give up.

"A good amount of payment for the time delayed, perhaps?"

That made the man pause. It was obvious to me that he was in need of that, so clearly Balin would have picked it up first, the man's clothing looking faded, repaired with patches and stitches, his boots seemingly so old that there was a hole in more than one spot. Still even with all that it would have been easy to miss, he carried himself with the same pride as Boromir might, a man with confidence enough to hide tattered clothing or sad boots.

"I am not-"

"You do not need to know, of course, but say these barrels still contained any persons smuggled away-" That caused Bombur to groan, muttering something about dying before he got back into one, which Balin ignored, "-and you found coin waiting for you which you needed not report."

"That would be _smuggling_."

"It would give your family thrice the payment you'd ask for transport normally." Balin said softly. "We require a safe place. A safe place would mean you would be paid four times the fee charged..."

"The Elves need never know, nor does the Master of Laketown." Thorin added.

I felt bad for the guy suddenly. He struggled with it, his face tense as he kept his back to us, his fists clenching a moment.

"Surely you have mouths to feed? Little ones?"

"A son and two daughters." The bargeman agreed quietly. "Waiting."

"And their moth-"

"Gone."

Balin sighed, shaking his head, voice lower, "I am sorry..."

"Fine." The bargeman cut in, sharp, adding, "But you must agree to follow my lead. You must all remain quiet and stay in the barrels."

The sun was starting to set. Everyone was restless, desperate to get away from the river as soon as possible, and I couldn't say I blamed them all that much.

"Agreed." Balin nodded, exchanging a glance with Thorin and the others.

"Get on."

We filed on the boat, bargeman watching every single one of us, his eyes boring into me as it was my turn to pass him as well. He seemed to see straight through the short hair now that I was close up, but if he knew I was a woman, he didn't bother saying anything.

It was just as he was about to push off that Boromir spoke, sudden, as if he'd just realised something.

"My friends- Myself and Wendy should come by a different road." Boromir said softly. "We will meet you inside the Lake Town."

That surprised everyone, including the bargeman, as Boromir continued, "Dwarves may stand out but we will not. Having the freedom to move around may prove useful."

Thorin nodded, slow, seeming to understand, but the bargeman spoke up.

"You are both strangers- you will not go unnoticed."

"But we will not be of much interest for long. Do you not have travellers?" Boromir agreed. "Plus it would give you much more reason to need extra food."

"Aye- from time to time." The bargeman admitted. "We are not so seperate from the world as to avoid those who pass through."

"Freedom of movement may be of use. Is it possible for them to come this way?" Balin asked quietly, stroking his beard, considering it. "Perhaps, say, as cousins of you? If our guards are free to move then we may eat without taking much from your family."

Any distrust or disagreement vanished from the man's face at that. He was clearly not in a situation at home to be able to spare a lot of food... and resistance to what we wanted to do vanished once again.

I felt bad suddenly, felt really bad for him, because we were all manipulating his bad situation just to get our way. I'd more or less stood back at this point, letting the men and Dwarves decide this, having no idea what Boromir was thinking. Why should it matter?

"Cousins?" That made the man laugh, shaking his head, adding, "Such a thing may draw more attention than take away..."

Why? He didn't give an explaination and Boromir seemed to understnad.

"Not if we are removed- say twice removed, simply passing by."

"Which we are." Balin reassured him. "We are simply in need of a safe place, quiet..."

"So you have said." The man grunted.

He paused, scratching his scalp, clearly torn between distrust and the need for the money we'd offer.

"I... we can probably help out a little while we're there. If we're openly your visitors." I offered, quiet, BOromir shooting me a grateeful look. I wasn't just giving false promices... the LEAST I could do while I was there was help this poor man out somehow. "We won't just be there to eat your food and sit around your fire."

He looked at me a long time then, staring so hard that I was sure he had seen right through the short hair and bound chest, surprise flittering across his face a moment.

The man's body slumped as he mentally gave in.

Dwalin muttered, "Come now, enough talk. Make a decision and let us be off. The sun is setting."

He was right, of course, the sun had started to set through all of this.

"All right. Then it is agreed." The bargeman agreed. He glanced to the setting sun as well. "We must be off and you and your friend must also hurry. The lake is not friendly at night. It is several hours walk to the bridge. Curiosity you must expect, as all must when coming, but there would be little more than that."

"So be it." Thorin agreed.

"So be it." Balin agreed. He turned to us. "You may need your coin to buy your way in, but if you can spare any-"

Boromir had my coins still, I realised, and he was dumping a good number of them into Balin's outsretched hand without a further word. "We'll have enough."

So he said... but what we had was running low now. I doubted we'd have much more after we'd get in.

"You ask for Bard at the gate," The bargeman instructed us, "Then say you are passing by and wish to stay with family in a safe place during your journeys East, but be also sure to ask where the nearest place to buy a gift of food- for they will not refuse you if you are clearly here to also spend money."

"Understood." Boromir was tugging the coin bag closed and shoving it deep in his pocket. "Then we will see you all..."

"You-" Bard gestured towards me. "Do not talk till you come in, unless it be gruff, for your voice betrays your gender."

Oh. Woops. I flushed, Boromir's shoulders tensing, and felt a little bad. I hadn't done it to hide 'my gender'. It was just comfortable and it'd felt right. "I'll keep that in mind."

Boromir and I stepped off the boat. Boromir gave the boat a good firm shove with his boot, Bard nodding his thanks as the boat started off, grasping a pole. We watched the boat just for a few minutes as it was eased away and across the lake, the sunset sending the calm waters into a glorous sea of oranges and golds, the Dwarves heard fussing about over coin as Balin eased the boat away.

"That-" Boromir informed me quietly, "-is the future King of Dale. Do not be fooled by his cloth or his gruff manners, he is of keen eye and mind, and already knows that there is more to this than meets the eye."

"Oh, he is!" I realised. I'd forgotten about that, so tired and worn out, but now that Boromir mentioned it... "I don't know how I didn't make that connection. Shesh."

"You forgot his face from the mooveee?"

"Kind of." I admitted. "I remember it all now. I remember that mayor more than Bard..."

That was the sad truth. I remembered that strange mayor, I remembered a lot of fish, and snowing. There was also a memory of drunk Dwarves and Kili... The cold wind, which once again made me shudder, made it clear that snow might actually be a possibility.

Boromir turned to face me, checking me, sliding his hand under the hem of my short to check it. He was clearly worried as he muttered, "You have been through a lot..."

"That's not it." I shoved his hand back. "I was just distracted. Bard the bowman, right? I guess I wasn't thinking about him much. Stop fussing," I shoved his hand out, adding, "I stopped the bleeding and we've got to go. Two hour walk. But where?"

"That way." Boromir gestured, stepping back, adding, "We must walk in a hurry."

"Agreed." I muttered. "I'll run my brain over everything that happened while we walk."

"Good. Come."

Boromir led the way, the two of us hurrying along the edge of the great lakes, our feet crunching on gravel and wet ground. Trees were golden, red, purple, so it was still autumn, but that apparently did not change that up here in the 'high country' it was close to freezing. The blades of grass grew silver as the sun set, a hard frost clinging to them when it finally grew dark, the clouds chasing across the sky dropping rain that was almost slushy to the touch.

I did try and remember what we'd seen in the movie but that, Legolas, and the problem of being a week 'ahead of schedule', had me a little befuddled. I hadn't even recognised Bard, for crying out loud, and he'd been a pretty obvious face. He wasn't much different from the films... a little lighter skinned, his hair a few shades lighter as well... but the same face, same roughish stubble, same long hair. Unwashed but practically the same. Even his face was close enough to be a brother.

Then again, stubble and unwashed hair could make a lot of men look alike, and with the faded clothing maybe it wasn't so surprising I'd forgotten about him. Besides. My mind was in Mirkwood.

It was absurd. I hated that right now, when we were at Lake Town, I struggled to let go of the painful things that'd happened in Mirkwood. It could have been worse... I chastened myself for being too weak to move on. Luckily the cold wind helped me stay a little more focused.

"Come on..." Boromir urged me, a little more anxious now, his attention on our surroundings while we made our way through the wilderness. Now the boat and Bard were long gone, we had no lights, no protective blades, and Boromir was clearly starting to rethink his plan. It was a good one. In theory.

"I wish we had cloaks." I muttered, shivering a little, trying to not slip on slippery crunchy grass. "That would make it easier."

"I wish we had many things." Boromir's hand brushed the place he may have kept a sword, voice dark and low, adding, "But we should walk on the gravel and try avoid making tracks. Just in case."

"You mean if they're tracking us?"

"They are tracking us." Boromir insisted. "We can only hope that they are slowed."

He and I ended up back down near the edge of the lake. I now saw traces of ice in the lake in the dark, reflective bits of ice that caught the sliver of moon and flashed in the dark, the tiny waves at the edges of the lake lifting and dropping bits of slushy half melted ice.

Bats flew across from time to time, though that was all we saw of acual wildlife, but that didn't stop Boromir from freezing every now and then when he thought he'd heard something. It was a tense but uneventful walk thankfully... the moon halfway up the sky by the time we'd caught sight of a long row of lanturns along the lake, reflecting in the dark shiny body of water, and several lanturns 'floating' up and down

"Are they floating or are they..."

"Guards." Boromir explained. He smiled, faint, and started forward with fresh vigor. "Good."

Good! Great. I hoped they wouldn't shoot us with arrows before we got close enough to show that we were actual people.

It was close, a little too close, they noticed us while we were coming out of the forest and heading for the bridge. We heard shouts, heard the sounds of boots on wooden planks as several headed for us, lanturns held high.

Boromir hesitated, turned on me, and to my shock the asshole actually grasped my injured shoulder and pressed his fingers hard into it.

"Ow!"

"Quiet." He hissed, checking, only satisfied when he saw the blood start to stain my clothing. Again. Boromir's fingers were coated as well and he actually covered his neck in my blood.

"Barbarian..." I muttered. No more chance to talk. The guards were off the bridge and jogging up the steep incline of the land to us.

"We're unarmed!" Boromir called, holding his arms up, and then gestured at me to do the same.

I held up my arms as well.

"What madness has two men walking the wilderness at night!" One of the guards called, clearly suspicious, a ring of metal echoing as a sword was drawn. "Speak!"

"We were travelling the East Road and were set upon." Boromir called.

They finally reached us, lights half blinding us as we were surrounded, but we were clearly unarmed. The Elves had taken everything, even cloaks, leaving us fairly exposed and open with only the clothes on our backs.

"East road? That's dangerous for two..."

"We had more, at first, horses also." Boromir responded. "My friend was injured but we were lucky to escape."

"Why doesn't he speak?" A lantern was held up in my face. "Magic may conceal many enemies..."

"We are no enemies-" Boromir cut in before I could speak, reaching up to lower the lantern that had been thrust into my face, protective as he moved to stand between myself and them. "He has been injured and shocked into silence."

Oh, so _that's_ why he decided to get me all bloody again? I scowled and reached up to grasp my shoulder, pressing against it, fingers wet with my own blood.

"I am family of Bard-" Boromir continued, voice low and even, "-by a marriage, for I am kin to his wife. Having no safe way to continue East we must intrude on him and his wife-"

"She's dead."

That made Boromir pause. He seemed to genuinely mean it as he said quietly, "That is... I had not heard."

He was a bloody good actor sometimes. Maybe it was his own life he used, I didn't know, but he actually looked fairly grieved at that and even the guards seemed to relax as Boromir's shoulders slumped.

"Then it may be good that we come." He said softly.

"And her?"

Oh, bloody hell, they'd noticed. I supposed it wasn't that strange closer up. Boromir glanced at me as one of the guards spoke up.

"It's a woman. Look. No adam's apple." He pointed out, matter of fact, raising an eyebrow. "That why she won't speak?"

"Well-" I finally spoke up, feeling strangely drained suddenly from sheer exhaustion, "-the road's a dangerous place for a woman. He decided I should cut off my hair." I prodded at Boromir. May as well use him for blame with this..

There was no point in lying. Not if one of them had seen... the others would all notice as well. Boromir grasped me by the shoulders, drawing me close, and nodded.

"You can not blame a brother for forcing his sister to cut her own hair off, not on the East Road..."

They seemed to be relaxing though. What was it about being a woman that made men's guards go down so easily and so quickly? Swords lowered, lanturns lowered, all sign of aggression gone.

"I'd do the same. I've seen the state of that road." One of the older men grunted. "My wife may never forgive me. I hope your sister has a bigger heart. Let the poor things in. Can you not all see how tired and beaten up they are? Bard's children may do well for a woman in the house for a change."

"Come on, quickly, the night's threatening to rain." Another agreed.

We were escorted onto the bridge, myself ahead of Boromir, the long bridge stretching out ahead. Shouts passed backwards and forwards reassuring other guards we were safe.

"Is there a place where we may buy food for them?" I asked, remembering Bard's words, adding, "It's rude to arrive without something..."

"That it is. There is an inn near the gate, though it may not be the best of food, but the late hour would have all else closed." The older guard responded. He'd stuck close, the warm lantern close to me, adding, "Do you need assistance with your wounds?"

"Once I am with my family I will be able to treat it." Boromir called from behind me.

"Of course."

There was no more need to convince them though, clearly, we were ushered in through the gates without so much as a bribe. I had to assume it was because I was a woman, really, I'd heard there were all kinds of ways of using that … I'd just never tried them.

Boromir and I only stopped into the inn, a tired sad little place, long enough to pick up a reasonably large ham... the innkeeper couldn't hide his joy at this unexpected offer of riches at what was probably a poor piece of meat... and then with the Innkeeper's guidance we were directed towards where Bard lived.

He was waiting not far from the entrance, arms crossed, and with some stiff 'greetings' between him and Boromir Bard directed us through the maze of bridges and houses to where his family and the Dwarves waited.


	21. Guests of Bard the Bowman

Lake town was quiet at night, no rocking night life or drunken taverns creating scenes, just the lap of water against boats. Some fishermen still appeared to be moving around the lane ways of water, paddles dipping quietly and knocking against floating ice, but aside from a few flickering warm patches of light in windows it was clear that most people were in bed.

Boromir and Bard exchanged conversation, voices quiet and yet still carrying, but the words were mostly the kind of thing 'distant' cousins might have exchanged, awkward questions about family, kids, that kind of thing. They didn't have to fake awkward, it must have been very strange for Bard to talk about his children to a stranger, and when Boromir gave his sympathy for the loss of Bard's wife... there was no need to fake how uncomfortable that made Bard.

I wondered if perhaps the fishermen were actually following Bard after we'd weaved in and out of the houses for about five minutes, and that may have explained the conversation. Was Bard watched? I vaguely remembered something about that but I hadn't paid much attention. I hadn't really understood why they'd bother at the time.

Still, as we approached his house, they continued to follow. Bard gestured to us to go upstairs, glancing about a moment, following behind me.

"My children sleep." He said softly. "I do not expect any of you to stay silent- but keep voices low."

"We can do that." I reassured him.

It was hard though- boy were the Dwarves glad to see us. We came into a small kitchen area, the Dwarves huddled around a fire in the living room in blankets and clutching to warm drinks, their sodden clothing still hanging around the roof. There was a distinctive fishy smell to them all... and I wondered if they'd spent part of their journey in barrels of fish. If they didn't all look so tired and sour I might have actually asked.

"You made it!" Ori brightened.

"Must admit, we were a little worried..." Balin smiled, shaking his head, rising to shake Boromir's hand and clasp a hand on my arm. "Come and have a seat. Fire's strong and tea is hot."

"We brought food." I held out the wrapped piece of meat to Bard, who took it, smiling a little for the first time since this had all started.

Bard nodded, grateful, and carefully unwrapped it. "I will bring some on bread for us all. Keep-"

"-voices down, we know, we know." Gloin finished for him.

While he went to the table to cut bread, Boromir and myself were wedged in amongst the Dwarves, several blankets offered from those closest to the fire. They were still in their undergarments, long john type things, and seemed resonably dry.

"Going to need a comb soon." Bombur muttered. His attention wasn't on his ruined hair though, it was on Bard and the food, his stomach making loud gurgles. "That's not enou-"

Thorin jabbed him. "It is more than enough."

Bombur frowned, looking down, not looking convinced at all. He didn't even try to look grateful as Bard circled around us, handing out slices of bread with the cooked meat, his eyes going to the big chunk of meat still remaining.

"I will tolerate your presene," Bard warned us, as if he was aware of the situation, his voice low, "But only if you understand that my priority is to feed my children first. The rest must be saved for the morning and when they are fed, you will all get that remains, but I have a duty..."

"We do understand." Balin reassured him. "Don't we?"

There were grunts, nods, and Gloin said gruffly, "I too have a wee lad. No one will take that which you do not offer."

"Good." Bard nodded. He slid the last piece to me and rested down heavily beside me, sighing, looking exhausted as he reached up to rub his face. "Eat up quickly- we all need rest."

There was silence as everyone ate. It showed just how tired the Dwarves were, they weren't usually so easily ordered or silenced, and as they ate their megar offerings there were soft whispers here and there but that was about all.

"You would allow us a smoke, would you not?"

"Of course." Bard agreed. He smiled faintly again. "I think I may need one too. I have tobacco to share if you have pipes."

They did somehow, amazing considering how the Elves had stripped us all, but then I supposed wooden pipes weren't as much of a concern as weapons had been. Pipes appeared, sweet earthy smoke rising up to cast a little cloud across the ceiling, the smell of fish vanishing. One by one bodies relaxed, sighed, leaning back.

It was now that I finally saw Bilbo. He was fast asleep, bread and meat untouched beside him, curled up near the fire under a blanket.

"Poor lad. He's done good." Bifur grunted, his words mostly audible, reaching down to pat the hobbit's shoulder affectionately.

Maybe it was the smoke, or the sense of safety – if only for the night – but I felt the tension bleed out of my muscles and sagged forward, leaning on my elbows, gazing forward at the fire as it danced and placed. I sighed as my stomach settled down and shut my eyes a moment.

"Thanks." I said quietly, to Bard, "For taking this chance."

"There was not so much choice." He said quietly. "Even a father must do risky things to feed their family."

It must have been hard, leaving them here alone, knowing they were hungry, barely able to feed them. There wasn't anything I could think of saying to make it better. There were many things I'd have done to keep my boy fed as well, safe, in a home that was safe.

Boromir nudged me gently. "I should be buying you a dress. I forgot the power a weak woman has on men with swords..."

"_Weak_."

"If you would pretend to be weak then you would find it would go your way a great deal more than trying to force situations." Boromir gave me a light bump with his arm, sounding amused, adding, "Always trying to be as strong as a man."

"I am as-"

"You are no less skilled, do not mistake me, but men will still always be stronger in close combat." Boromir corrected. Then he grinned, adding, "If you were only a little more subtle with your strength of heart, and had hair the length of Eowyn, the world could be eating out of your hands."

I snorted. "I like this hair."

"Then buy a wig. I have seen them from your world."

"Say what you like to her, Boromir, but subtle battles of the womanfolk kind are clearly not her skills." Bofur grinned at me from across Boromir's side.

"It's a shame you didn't keep up the scrawny man act." Boromir commented lightly.

"Why? We got in bribe free." I relaxed.

"But now you are a known woman. They will expect you to wear a dress..."

"No." Oh god, my heart sunk at that, and I protested, "It shouldn't matter..."

"It will if you're genuinely trying to avoid drawing too much attention. They'll get bored of you if you wear a dress like all other women but if you continue to dress like a man? That will cause a stir and will draw far too much attention here." Bard spoke up. He shrugged. "It is done. We will find something for you. I doubt you have one of your dresses on you."

One of my dresses? Last time I wore a dress happily dress it was a wedding dress, the one I'd ordered from 'Rivendel Brides' mostly out of self-amusement, so no, I probably didn't. I sighed. Let it go. Okay. "All right."

"She doesn't sound too impressed, does she?" Fili chuckled and shook his head.

"Once again she's behaving more like a Dwarven woman than a human one." Kili spoke up. His smile was horribly forced, his skin still several shades too pale, but he was doing his hardest to hide it. The compliment was overshadowed for me by the way he looked.

There was no opportunity to question about it. Bard had stood, muttering, "Now- I have no room upstairs, and although it may be cramped you must all sleep down below. There is a storage room beside the toilet where you may all sleep. Wendy, you may sleep near the fire."

"It's cold down there." Bombur complained.

"Why does she get to be up here?" Dwalin demanded, shooting us both a look, adding, "Some of us do not have a head of hair to stay warm..."

"She's a woman." Ori whispered.

"Could have fooled me."

"Quiet." Bard hissed. "You'll do what I say or you'll be back down the toilet. Tomorrow the children will meet you all."

"Of course we will, we're all strangers, and we're able to keep warm." Gloin spoke up. "He has bairn to protect."

That quietened everyone. Gloin stood, rising slowly, and took another slow puff of his pipe.

"It won't be too cold below." Barn reassured them, as they took their clothing and shuffled downstairs, adding, "You will find a small coal fireplace and coal. It will take the chill off the room. It is a room designed for drying- it is well sealed from the cold."

"We'll manage." Thorin said quietly. Grateful, he nodded to Barn, and then vanished down the stairs.

Boromir vanished downstairs, hesitating a moment as if he was worried about leaving me, but I didn't feel all that threatned. Once he was gone Barn sighed.

"You will find blankets, but no bed, and that will have to do."

"It's fine." I reassured him quietly. "Really. You go, sleep, I'll sort it out. The fire..."

"I will give it several logs and then you can ignore it. The coals will remain hot and it will be easily woken in the morning." Bard was doing it even as he spoke, hoisting a couple of heavy looking logs onto the fire, and rewrapping the meat.

"Is there anything you need me to do?" I couldn't relax till I offered. "To make it easier. I can wake up and keep the fire going, if your children need more warmth, or get up early and … do something. Bring water. Anything. We're the ones forcing you into a difficult place."

Another tired smile, a shake of his head, responding, "I am so used to doing it all that I cannot even begin to think of what to ask. You are my guest- just sleep and sleep well. My daughters may rise before I do, perhaps, but they will wake me if they see you. You have a wound and it should rest a day, at least..."

"I don't want to scare them."

"Not much scares those three." Bard stood up now, done fussing over the fire, and held out several blankets. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." I took the blanket. He vanished into one of the tiny doors, bending low, and I was left to set up a small bed out of the blankets I had. With a rolled up blanket for a pillow, my aching arm babied by staying on my side and using my other arm, I shut my eyes and fell straight into oblivion.

Whispers got my attention, at first, soft whispers that were just a few feet away. I opened my eyes to see two girls nearby, the older one trying to hush the younger as she asked questions, but by the lack of shock or fear I had to assume Bard had already warned his girls about me.

"Why did she cut her hair?"

"Quiet, that's rude..."

"But why?"

The older girl must have seen my eyes were open, she nudged her little sister, scolding her, "Now you woke her," and came across slowly. "Hello... sorry, she's just curious."

"I'm not offended." I sat up slowly, cringing a little as the slightest bending of arm made my shoulder ache again, cursing Boromir for provoking it again. I got why he did it... but it was still sore. "Hello. I'm Wendy."

"I'm Sigrid and this is Tilda." Sigrid looked around thirteen, though she could have easily been younger, the maturity in her face might have been brought on by loss of her mother. "There's a toilet downstairs if you need it. Pa told us you and some friends were hiding here."

"Yes, and sorry for how crowded that might make it..." I reached up to touch my shoulder, sighing, the entire area somehow aching away now.

"Are you hurt?" Sigrid asked quickly. "Do you need Pa to look at it?"

"It was a week ago- it should be healing. It just had a rough day." I reassured her. Then, to the younger girl who still clearly had questions, I added, "I cut my hair because it was easier to keep clean while travelling." Not a total lie, plus it was an answer that didn't provoke too many questions in a young mind, it

"Oh." Tilda seemed to accept this. "I don't like washing my hair when it's cold. It's cold all the time. Can I cut mine short?"

"You don't mind me combing it in front of the fire after though." Sigrid smiled at that, grasping her little sister, giving her a squeeze.

"It's nice but my head is cold." I admitted. "There's not enough hair to warm it."

The stairs creaked, Bard's voice calling, "You bothering our guest?" and he appeared at the door with a sack over one shoulder. "Excuse them, they were curious."

"It's no problem." I liked them already. "Tilda just wanted to know about my hair. It is unusual."

"That it is." He agreed. He dropped the heavy sounding sack down on the table. "We have potatos plenty."

"Good." Sigrid hurried over, grabbing an apron, her sleeves rolling up. "I can make soup. It'll make meat go further."

Tilda had inched closer to me, reaching out, shy and curious all at once. When I showed no sign of anger she let her small hand touch my short hair, stroking it, before withdrawing her hand as her face lit up. "It's nice and clean."

Bard smiled, though it was a sad smile, watching her as she fussed around the kitchen. She did look very small, the apron seemed very large for her, and I caught the small sigh. He lifted a knife. "Do you want me to peel..."

"No, pa, you get more potato than you get skin." Sigrid responded, lifting a bucket, and thrust it at him. "We need water. Tilda, come help..."

"But I wanted to talk to Wendy!" Tilda had remained near me, hovering about, half shy and half curious. She was clearly wanting to touch my head again. "Her hair is really nice and fluffy."

"You're not cutting your hair." Bard warned her. "Go, help your sister, and leave Wendy to get up and get dressed. Here." He strode across and held something out. It was a bundle of cloth, the top being a dress, a woman's dress, smelling a little old and musty but still quite beautiful with green woollen fabric. He gazed down at it with that mixture of grief and affection. "You can wear this. I already spoke to Sigrid, she doesn't mind, as long as you care for it."

"Was this your wife's dress?" I suddenly didn't want to take it, not because it was a dead woman's drss, but because … dresses were always passed onto daughters. Hand me downs were a way of life for communities with poor or limited resources. I knew Sigrid would wear it one day. "I couldn't wear it."

"You can wear it." Sigrid called. "I'm too small for it. You don't have to wear raggy men's clothing while you're our guest. Ma... well, she would have made sure you wore something warm and comfortable."

I wondered how long it had been since she'd died. They seemed to struggle still, but there was still that trace of smile, memories no longer causing just pain... that point in grief where they could also smile.

I also knew it'd be rude to reject it. "I'll care for it while I'm here. I'll be careful with it and return it after."

"That's all you need do." Bard agreed, letting me take the dress, adding, "I have a cloak also, with a hood, to protect you from the chill of the winds while outside."

"My offer of help..." I stood slowly, careful, and stretched.

"I will accept it." Bard reassured me. "Think on that after you have woken properly and dressed. The girls know how to cook. Your shoulder..."

"It's all right." I reassured him. "It's not bleeding now."

"Still, I'll get some hot water for you to clean it out, but first... the water for the girls." He grasped the bucket tighter and vanished downstairs.

"You can dress in our room." Sigrid called. "There's a tub of hot water... well, it might be warm by now, but it's still clean and soapy. We washed yesterday- you don't need to worry about dirtying the water so you can strip completely and take your time."

After relieving myself downstairs, the dwarves still snoring away apparently, I ended up in their room. The cold of this area, this town, it clung to the room even with the fire going just a few metres away, and it was pretty uncomfortable to take clothing off.

The tub was just big enough to stand in, which was the point, probably the right size for a kid to sit in if they wanted. I didn't have much choice but to dirty the water, which made me pretty embarrassed, the colour of things coming off me...

I hadn't been able to wash with soap for so long though, so honestly grateful for hot soapy water and a cloth to clean myself from head to toe.

Tilda appeared, much to Sigrid's embarrassment, openly curious as she snuck into the room and watched me. In this society I knew, from my time in Minas Tirith, that this was quite normal. Girls and women bathed together in families, shared the same water, and the shame thing my culture had was absent.

"Why are you hairy between your legs?" She asked. "Why do you have lines on your belly and legs and arms?"

"Tilda!" Sigrid called, flustered sounding, adding, "I am so sorry... she only sees me bathing... she doesn't remember... Ma. I can come get her out if you want."

Was it that long ago that Tilda had no memory of her mother bathing? Sympathy welled up for them both.

"It's okay." I called. Then, as I tried to get over my embarrassment at being so openly stared at, I answered as I scrubbed a dirt encrusted patch, "All women grow hair on their legs, under their arms and between their legs when they become a woman..."

"Why?"

"I don't know." I admitted. "Maybe it's to help us stay warm."

She giggled, clearly approving of that, and shuffled over to sit on her bed. "What about the lines? You got scars too..."

"The lines are from when I was carrying a baby." I responded, gazing down to the stretch marks, most of them faded, but still there. "Scars are from when I got hurt."

"How?"

"Tilda, stop bothering her, and come help me peel..." Sigrid called.

Bard's voice appeared too, the thump of boots on the floor outside the door, warning her, "Tilda, come out, stop bothering our guest..."

"What?" Tilda stood up, taking her time as she wandered out, competently oblivious to her poor flustered father as she opened the door and peered out. "She's my _friend_ now."

His boy was there too. With Boromir. The two men and the boy stared at me just a moment before Tilda was yanked out and the door shut.

Bard quickly shut the door, his face red, calling, "Please... forgive her... she has no idea of proper behaviour... _Tilda_!"

I was still standing there, soapy, naked and dripping, but all I could do was grin even as my face warmed in embarrassment. It was too funny. Tilda's innocence was adorable. Maybe it was time to end bathing though. Quickly I finished up, checking my shoulder, frustrated when I found that the skin around the wound had gone a shade of red that probably was not a good sign.

Infection was a likely and logical outcome given all the things that wound had been through, and the way it hadn't been able to heal properly, and I wished I'd thought to clean it before I'd dirtied the water with everything else. This wasn't my world. We didn't have antibiotics here... an infection was more serious. I would have to take it more seriously and care for it better.

Once I had dried myself enough, I dressed, the dress two parts- one thinner wool under dress that was a creamy white, probably the natural shade of the wool it was made from, and the other made to go over it. The undergarments were long, like leggings, but without any binding around my chest it made busts go all kinds of upward.

Well, perhaps not so much, but I'd been living without cleavage for so long that even a hint of it seemed like a lot to me.

The soft over dress was heavy, though not unbearable, soft and a little worn here and there with use. The hem of the sleeves had little bees and flowers stitched around them, hiding worn sleeves but also adding a personal touch from the woman who had worn it before myself, the neckline's hem lined with a similar pattern of flowers. A long row of buttons tightened the dress along the front, holding it in place, but it was still a dress designed for warmth and practicality as much as beauty.

Gloves were included, apparently but I found a pouch inside to put them in for the moment. Once I had my boots back on I found myself suddenly 'womanised' again.

Tilda was getting a talk to, when I came out, Boromir's grin on his flustered face showing that he'd seen it all.

Oh well.

"You look like a woman, Wendy, I do not know you at all!" He exclaimed, coming to me, arms open as he tried to capture me in his arms. "I think it's time I treat you as such."

"Yeah, that'd be the day!" I retorted, ducking out of his embrace, and turned to see Bard and boy flustered as they tried to act natural. "Sorry about that..."

"You look lovely." Bard reassured me. "Tilda should know better."

"Well, you wanted me to come out, and now you're angry because I did it! I don't want to help _anyone_ cook now." Tilda protested, upset, even stomping her foot as she stormed off to the room before any of us could talk.

Sigrid dropped the knife, sighing, and went to the room. "I'll talk to her..."

"No, leave her." Bard sighed. "She's got to learn that there's some things you shouldn't do... and she'll come out when she's hungry. I'll get that water out of the room before it creates a chill. You both sit- we'll all talk about your plans when the Dwarves are ready. Bain- go knock again."

"They were snoring before." Bain seemed unable to look at me, the poor kid flushing as he caught my eye, but given his age... he was probably around fourteen... it was probably going to be a while before he could be relaxed around me after this. He was almost glad to leave the room.

Moments later Bilbo appeared, blinking at me in the dress, and he smiled and came to sit beside me and Boromir near the fire.

"You look nice" He commented.

"Thanks." I responded. "You look well rested."

Bilbo did, he had colour back in his face, he was relaxed, and clearly in a better mood than he had been for a while. "It was hard to sleep in Mirkwood. Slept better than I have for days."

"Is everyone else still asleep?" Boromir asked.

"That they are, sleeping like a bunch of hairy babies, and I wouldn't dare wake them till they're ready." Bilbo nodded. "I suspect Dwarves aren't so comfortable with water journeys."

He rose again, wandering across to where poor Sigrid was alone, and without a word took up a knife and joined her.

"You don't have to help..." Sigrid told him.

"I've missed cooking." Bilbo responded. "Really. I used to cook all my own meals before all this." His hands were fast, peeling the potato quickly with the knife, and it was a pretty beautiful job- barely the potato was touched at all. "Hobbits eat seven times a day, usually, so we have plenty of practice."

"Seven times!" Sigrid shook her head. "So much food..."

"It is a lot of food, I've realised, but I did not think anything of it before this adventure." Bilbo agreed. He continued to help her, his speedy work hurrying the potatoes along, until they were all done and being washed to go into the pot. "Hobbits always eat like that. We have a trick, actually, if you'd let me demonstrate..."

He demonstrated with a potato how he could peel it in a few seconds- first boiling it, then dunking it in icy water for a few seconds, before literally pushing the potato peel off with a quick squeeze.

"I didn't know you could do that!" Sigrid exclaimed.

"We eat a lot of these." Bilbo explained. "Hobbits do, I mean, so we learnt quicker ways to prepare them."

"What's are hobbits like?"

Tilda reappeared, sneaking out, hugging the wall a little as she listened to Bilbo chatter on about his home, his larders, his home, Sigrid caught on every word. She started to help again.]]

I stood to help, but Boromir gave me a gentle shove back down, carefully peeling the hem off the dress to one side as he peered at the wound.

"It's infected." He frowned, concern replacing his good mood, gently probing it. "You have not been cleaning it."

"It's just a little infected. I'll clean it carefully when I have some boiling water." I reassured him. "Not a problem."

"You will sit still while I do it." He muttered. "Then I will decide if it is a problem or not. That is an _order_, warrior Wendy."

"Yeah, yeah, Captain Boromir..."

"Captain?" Bard asked, reappearing with another bucket of water, pouring it into a cauldron over the fire. "Of where?"

"Gondor." Boromir responded. "Wendy is from a different place again. We'll need hot water to clean her wound."

"Aye, I know, and I'll make sure you get some hot water before this becomes soup." Bard responded. "I am Captain of the Laketown Archers. You fight with a sword, I assume...?"

"That I do." Boromir agreed. "You need more water?"

"Two more buckets."

"Then I'll assist you- one journey and we can talk." Boromir shot me a look. "You stay resting. That shoulder needs rest."

"Yeah, yeah." I responded, repeating myself, tempted to argue. No point. Boromir was clearly determined to care for me... was it the dress? Perhaps it was.

Dwarves appeared soon before the soup was ready, lured by stomachs, crowding into the room and stunning the girls. They must have had a little warning but there was no real way to prepare anyone for thirteen hungry, grumpy, restless Dwarves that nearly took up all the space around the table.

"You sit down too, Pa, we'll bring it all over." Sigrid waved a ladle at her father as he approached, clearly in control, adding as she saw his face fall somewhat, " If you need to do something, take bowls over."

He did exactly what his daughter told him, dropping a large heap of clay bowls down, and then flopped heavily beside me. With a mixture of love, esasperation and sadness, Bard watched his girls chat to the hobbit and fend off hungry Dwarves without any need for his help. He shook his head.

"They're too used to living without my help." He said quietly, almost to himself, "I would not have accepted such a risky offer except... I need to spend more time here. With them."

"You can do that with more money, I guess..."

"I can pay another man to do the work several days a week for a few months without risking further hunger." He agreed.

So he basically wanted a weekend. Who could blame him for wanting that?

"If you want me to-"

"Stop offering help." Bard interrupted. "You will be asked, of course, but I will see your wound have a day of rest first. You must be a mother."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because once you have children it is easy to forget how to relax." He leaned back on his chair, slumping, shutting his eyes.

"I do have one." I admitted. "Just turned five. He is a handful..."

"A boy at that age always is." Bard chuckled, adding, "When my Bain was that age his mother was in constant anxiety about him slipping into the icy waters all winter- poor lad would want to run and play and would have to keep an eye out for a mother. He only got his freedom to be his age when she was pregnant again and could not chase him."

"Is he the oldest?"

"No, his sister is, but only by ten months." Bard responded. He gazed at the two of them, Bain had appeared as well, his sister chasing him off with the same ladle she'd used to fend off her father and the Dwarves with. "She lets him know she is the one in charge in this home..."

I liked her, this older girl, amused. She was fussing over the food, ignoring Dwarves, even as her sister asked them a flood of questions... sometimes slightly inappropriate and very innocent. Gloin seemed to be the one who got along with Tilda best, somehow, maybe it was because he'd already had a child. Lunch appeared, chunks of meat floating in thick soup rich with potato, onion and garlic, slabs of old crusty bread fried (without oil it seemed) piled up in the middle of the table. It was filling and good food.

After everyone had eaten, soup still left over by some incredible miracle, Balin, Dwalin and Bard discussed what was needed. Weapons, apparently, which Bard was clearly uncomfortable about.

"We mean you no harm but to go back on the road..."

"I understand." Bard responded. "That is not what has me concerned. Supply may be limited- but then you are all here for more than a few hours. It will not be something I can come up with in just a few hours, or even a few days, not without being noticed."

"Then it is lucky we cannot leave for at least five days."

"So long as you understand that I must take my time." Bard responded. "I have friends who will assist me- but we are all under close watch by the Master of this town."

"Good. Do what you can."

"Why are you under close watch?" Dwalin asked.

Bard straightened. "He is not a good man, he is a greedy man, lusting for food, for money and for innocence. But he cannot seem to understand how this may make people unhappy...he requires a person to blame."

"That's you." Boromir guessed.

"Who else? I do not threaten people, take their money, their gold or their children for his bed, and yet I still have loyality." Bard laughed, a dry laugh, no trace of real humor in his face. He added, "It threatens him to think that I could have any sort of power over people without resorting to his … his _ways_."

"Children for his bed?"

"They are not children, so to speak, but I have heard rumours that he will bribe deseperate girls with offers of food and coin for their family." Bard's voice lowered. Tilda and Sigrid weren't apparently listening, but Bain was, his young face older already with all these worries that his father carried. "Or if their family wrongs him, he will take what he wishes from their homes, his greed is bound by no honour or morality."

The Dwarves had hung onto every word, almost, although Thorin

"You're paying it too..." I realised. He was so resentful, so annoyed, and the look on his face confirmed it. Another big reason for him to want more money- he could pay it AND stay home. Protect his children _and_ his home. Bard, although the Dwarves hadn't figured it out yet, was the heir to Dale. Basically... a Prince of sorts. People around here probably knew it, the Master of this town certainly knew it, so it would either threaten or inspire without much energy from Bard himself. "So he's still blaming you for how angry people are..."

"I would rather pay it in order to know this house is marked safe, avoid stirring up anger, and my friends know it. That is why you must all stay quiet, hidden, and not bring unneeded attention here." Bard frowned. "And let me do what I must at the pace I decide."

Of course he'd said this before, in different words, but it showed how anxious he was that we all 'behave' with how he needed to reinforce this. No one argued. Maybe now the Dwarves were a little more understanding, I hoped, a little more willing to put up with hungry stomachs and boredom.

Maybe.

Only six more days to go.


End file.
